The gala was held at The Eclipse, a towering jewel planted in the heart of Meiran's financial district.
It was nearly fifty stories high, and it had silver boned terraces that caught the dying sun.
As their car pulled up to the private entrance, Kaya found herself leaning slightly forward, peering through the tinted window.
Even from a distance, the place looked intimidating. Not beautiful. Not magical. Intimidating, like walking into a lion's den in stilettos.
Outside, a row of sleek black SUVs lined the curb like state vehicles. Drivers stood beside them, stiff in uniform, eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses.
Cameramen crowded behind the velvet ropes, yelling over one another as their flashes turned the sidewalk into a battlefield.
Some were pressed against barricades. Others stood on stools or platforms, trying to get the perfect shot. The red carpet shone under the lights, rolled out like a royal tongue licking up the night.
Kaya let out a slow breath, then turned slightly to glance at Leon, who sat beside her, a shadow in a dark green tuxedo. He hadn't spoken much since they left the boutique, and he had immediately left her in the penthouse, claiming he had work to do.
His gaze was fixed on something beyond the window, jaw locked, his fingers tapping once against the door's leather trim.
"Your sister called again," he suddenly said without looking at her.
Kaya sighed. Her phone had been buzzing non-stop since the day of the wedding. Texts. Calls. Missed voicemails. A part of her wanted to throw it out the window and crawl into a hole because of how overwhelming it was.
So-called 'friends' from university wanted to catch up, her mother demanded to see her. Kaya took in a deep breath.
"She'll calm down eventually," she murmured.
"She won't need to." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, flat phone. "Here."
Kaya stared at it. "What's this?"
"New line. Untraceable. Only contacts you need. Your family can reach you through a relay. Everything else… filtered."
She didn't move to take it.
His voice dipped lower. "There are too many eyes on you now. You don't have the luxury of being careless."
Her fingers closed around the device. It was cold. He hadn't even asked if she wanted it.
She nodded once, tucking it into her purse. "Fine."
Just then, the door opened, and their driver bowed slightly, motioning to the steps that led to the velvet-carpeted entrance.
"It's showtime," Leon said.
And just like that, he stepped out, straightened, and offered her his hand.
Cameras exploded the second her heel touched the carpet.
"Mr. Feng! Over here!"
"Who is she?"
"Didn't you say you'd never marry?!"
"Mrs. Feng, how does it feel being Meiran's most envied woman?"
Kaya's heart galloped in her chest, but she didn't flinch. Her face, powdered to perfection, held a neutral, serene expression, shoulders squared, spine straight. Her red dress clung like it had been poured onto her, a slit riding high on her leg with every step. A single diamond shimmered at her throat.
Leon, walking beside her, nodded professionally at the press, that same carefully trained expression on his face. There was no warmth in it. No pride. Only calm power.
At one point, a girl from the back of the crowd screamed, "You stole him from all of us!"Another voice shouted, "How much did the dress cost, Mrs. Feng?"
Kaya didn't respond. She wasn't supposed to. But her fingers curled against her clutch.
She suddenly felt his arm snake behind her back and yanked her head in its direction. It was Leon's palm resting lightly against her lower spine. It was subtle. Protective. Possessive. Not for her, but for the cameras.
He leaned in slightly, speaking against her temple, "Put your hand on my chest."
"What?" She spat.
"Just do it."
Confused, Kaya pressed her palm against the crisp material of his tux jacket. That was when his other hand cupped her cheek, and he kissed her.
Just a light brush. Barely there.
But her breath stalled.
The flashbulbs went insane.
Kaya jerked back slightly, wide-eyed. "What—"
"Relax." He didn't look at her. "It's just for show."
She narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing more. She could feel her heart beating all the way to her lips.
As they neared the grand doors of the ballroom, he muttered lowly, "Be prepared. You're meeting my grandfather tonight."
Kaya blinked. "Wait. What? Tonight? You didn't tell me that."
He gave her a side glance. "You think you're just here to twirl in heels and smile?"
She opened her mouth, clearly about to argue, when a voice behind them interrupted.
"Leon Feng."
The tone was smooth, almost amused. They both turned.
A tall man, perhaps in his thirties, stood a few paces back from the champagne bar. His tuxedo was dark navy and everything about him spoke of old money and calculated charm. His hair was swept back with casual confidence, not a strand out of place.
And his posture, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other holding a glass, carried that arrogance of someone who was used to owning every room he walked into.
Kaya didn't know him.
But Leon did.
She felt it the instant his body went taut beside her. Not visibly, but the line of his shoulders stiffened, his grip at her waist firmer than before.
The man's gaze shifted lazily to Kaya and lingered.
Just a second too long.
Long enough for Kaya to see the vulgar glint in his eyes.
Then he smiled.
"Ah," the man drawled, stepping closer. "So this is the infamous Mrs. Feng."
Kaya blinked, thrown by the tone, equal parts intrigued and mocking. "Infamous?"
His grin widened, unapologetically amused. "I mean no offense. Merely… surprised."
She cocked her head. "Why? Because I have a pulse and opinions?"
He chuckled. "Because you don't look like someone Leon would choose. But then again…" His gaze dipped to the way Leon's hand curled possessively around her waist. "Perhaps I misjudged him."
Leon finally spoke, and his voice was cold steel.
"Lucas Shen."
Lucas turned fully toward him, the smile never leaving his face. "Leon. Always a pleasure."
Leon didn't extend a hand. He didn't return the greeting.
"Your reputation precedes you," Lucas continued, unbothered. "I've heard whispers for months. Secret wife. Whispers. Rumors. And now here you are, parading her through the gala like a trophy. A new leaf?"
Leon didn't flinch. "You've always liked to talk more than listen."
Lucas tilted his glass in acknowledgment. "And you've always preferred silence to truth."
His attention shifted back to Kaya.
"I must say, Mrs. Feng, you're quite composed for someone who's been thrust into the deep end of this world. Most women would be hiding behind their husbands by now."
Kaya met his gaze head-on. "Most women don't have Leon Feng as a husband."
Lucas's brows rose slightly. "A sharp tongue. Impressive."
Leon stepped in, his body angled between Kaya and Lucas now. "Stop eyeing my wife."
Lucas's smile didn't waver, instead it widened.
"And here I thought you didn't get possessive."
"I don't," Leon said. "Until it's necessary."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Lucas gave a small nod. "Enjoy your evening." He turned, smooth and self-assured, disappearing into the sea of glittering gowns and crystal flutes.
Kaya stared after him. "What was that?"
Leon's jaw ticked. "Lucas Shen is a leech dressed in designer. Don't talk to him again."
She raised a brow. "Is he dangerous?"
Leon didn't answer.
Because yes. He was.
And Leon didn't like the way Lucas had looked at her.
They had barely taken five steps when another voice, this one older, deeper, and far more commanding, spoke behind them:
"So… you've finally brought a wife."
Leon halted and Kaya turned with him.
Standing just behind them was an older man, dressed in a black mandarin-collar suit, cane in one hand, sharp eyes dissecting them both.
His presence was heavy, something that swallowed space. It was something that made even Leonstand straighter, tighter, like a schoolboy standing before a headmaster.
"Grandfather," Leon said, bowing his head slightly.
Oh. So this was his grandfather.