The Lewis mansion was quieter than usual. Most of the staff had either gone to rest or were preparing for the night ahead. Esther had spent the last hour trying on dresses Lady Bell helped her pick out, courtesy of the designer Daniel had sent over to joined them. In the end, she'd settled on something elegant but understated, a dress that hinted at grace without trying too hard.
'Why did he send the dresses?' Lady Bell had pried at the poor designer who knew nothing less than the instructions given to deliver the dresses.
Esther hadn't seen Daniel since her fitting, and something inside her buzzed. Maybe it was the nerves from the upcoming event. Or maybe… it was that quiet itch to thank him. Properly.
With a final look in the mirror, Esther made her way down the corridor. Daniel's room was at the far end, the hallway dimly lit by sconces casting soft shadows on the walls. She reached his door, hesitated briefly, then raised her hand and knocked twice.
Silence.
She knocked again, a little louder. Still nothing.
She frowned. Maybe he didn't hear me. She tried the handle, just a peek.
The door creaked open.
"Mr. Lewis?" she called gently, peering into the spacious, softly lit room. "It's me… Esther."
No answer. But the faint sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere inside.
She stepped in.
And that's when he emerged, from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, skin damp and glistening from a fresh shower. His dark hair was wet, pushed back, a single bead of water trailing down his temple and over his sharply defined cheekbone.
Esther froze.
Her eyes widened, helplessly drawn down his form. Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Rigid abs like carved stone. The way the towel clung to his hips, it was criminal. And those droplets of water tracing the lines of his muscles?
Sweet heavens…
She didn't move.
Neither did he.
It took a moment before her senses screamed at her to look away, but not before her eyes betrayed her, tracing the fine V-line that disappeared beneath the towel. Her breath caught in her throat. She spun around so fast she nearly tripped over her heels.
"I, I didn't see anything!" she blurted, eyes squeezed shut. "Well, I did, but I didn't mean to! I knocked!"
Behind her, Daniel was quiet, perhaps amused. "The door was unlocked?"
"Yes! I mean no, well, yes it was, but I didn't think you'd be..oh God."
There was a pause.
A low, amused chuckle rumbled from behind her.
"Miss Cole."
"Yes?" she squeaked, still not turning.
"You can open your eyes now. I'm covered."
She peeked over her shoulder to find him, mercifully, now wearing a robe, loosely tied, the towel gone. But his chest still peeked through the fabric, annoyingly perfect. And his smirk? Unforgivable.
"You're blushing," he noted, crossing the room calmly.
"Because I just saw my boss half-naked," she muttered, eyes darting everywhere but at him. "That's an HR violation in some countries."
Daniel laughed, actually laughed, and she felt it ripple through the air.
"I'll take full responsibility," he teased. "What did you need?"
"Oh, right. I came to… um, ask if I'm permitted to attend the function with Dija. Since you sent over dresses, I assumed it was a yes."
Daniel's eyes finally settled on her dress, and for a long, silent moment, he said nothing.
The dress was a masterpiece. Burnt orange, it hugged her petite frame with a kind of reverence, the fabric flowing like liquid fire down to her ankles. The bodice shimmered with beadwork, intricate swirls tapering off just above her chest, where the sheer material offered a glimpse of skin that was both tasteful and temptingly bare.
The sleeves were barely-there illusions, the beadwork lacing down her arms like jeweled vines that seemed to float on her skin. The dress didn't just fit her, it celebrated her.
His eyes traveled, slowly, deliberately, until they snapped back up.
"I'm sorry, Miss Cole, but it's a no," he said, clearing his throat and forcing his gaze to the floor.
"What? Then why the dresses?" Esther asked, genuine confusion knitting her brows.
"Because you're accompanying me," he said simply. "Not your friend."
"Oh." It was all she could manage. Her voice softened with surprise, and her eyes widened, but she said nothing more. She turned toward the door, hand on the handle, then paused.
"For the record," she said, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eye, "you really should keep your door locked next time. Some innocent people might not survive what I just saw."
Daniel's brow arched, intrigued. "Noted."
She slipped out quickly, shutting the door behind her, and leaned against it, heart thumping wildly in her chest. Her cheeks burned, lips tugging into a grin she couldn't fight off.
What the hell was that?
And more importantly… how was she going to explain this to Dija?
That girl was going to kill her.
The venue rose like a crown jewel at the heart of the capital, a grand hall nestled within a historic estate that had been refurbished to reflect modern prestige without losing its roots. Golden light spilled from towering crystal chandeliers, each handcrafted and imported from Venice, their shimmer casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors beneath.
The high ceiling was domed, painted in a mural of the nation's heritage, rich in symbolism and golden flourishes. Velvet-draped columns flanked the hall, and from each hung silk banners with the national crest and dignitary emblems.
Long glass walls opened to a private courtyard where a symphony played soft instrumentals under garden lights. Fountains danced in sync to the melody, bordered by manicured hedges shaped into the initials of the celebrant and her husband.
Inside, a gleaming grand staircase curved at the back of the hall like a royal path, flanked by red carpet and fluted golden rails. It was the kind of place where shoes clicked with importance, and every guest moved like they knew they were being watched.
Round tables draped in white-gold linen were dressed with towering centerpieces, fresh orchids, rare lilies, and glowing candles arranged in cascading crystal vases. Each seat bore custom calligraphy place cards and solid-gold cutlery for the night's five-course tasting menu by one of Europe's top chefs.
Security and elegance went hand-in-hand, men in tuxedos and women in couture designs roamed the floor, voices low and calculated, laughter soft but loaded. Political powerhouses, billionaires, dignitaries, and the country's most sought-after elites exchanged pleasantries and hidden agendas under the gaze of carefully positioned media lenses.
At the far end of the room was a raised dais, draped in rich emerald and black velvet, the Prime Minister's colors. Behind it, a gold-leaf insignia of the Republic gleamed beneath subtle lighting. This was where toasts would be made, speeches given, and subtle wars won with a single handshake.
Outside the estate's entrance, luxury vehicles rolled in one after another, each more extravagant than the last. But when Daniel Lewis's obsidian-black Bentley purred to a stop at the velvet-carpeted curb, a ripple of anticipation spread through the waiting crowd and media crew.
The door opened, and Daniel stepped out first, tall, composed, commanding in a custom midnight-blue tuxedo with subtle embroidery that shimmered under the lights. The press flashed, whispers rose. But then came the pause… the collective breath held.
Esther stepped out.
For a split second, time faltered. Cameras lowered, necks craned, conversations quieted into silence. She emerged like a vision, radiant in her burnt orange beaded gown that shimmered like firelight under the golden evening sky. The sheer-beaded bodice hugged her form with quiet power, the intricate details catching the light with every breath she took. The dress trailed softly behind her, like liquid flame poured onto the earth.
At her side, Daniel offered his arm, and she took it with quiet grace, but not before sharing a brief look. One of understanding. Of warning. Of thrill.
Together, they walked the carpeted path, past murmurs and stares. To the press, it looked official. Powerful. Intriguing. A mogul and his date, or was she more?
Dija, already inside, nearly dropped her champagne glass.
"What the actual..?" she whispered, wide-eyed as she caught sight of Esther from across the room.
The room took note. Whispers swelled like music beneath the chandeliers.
Daniel Lewis had brought company.
And she wasn't just anyone.
"Girl, you look absolutely breathtaking," Dija gushed, sweeping Esther into a light hug the moment they crossed paths in the glittering hall. "Now I'm not even mad you didn't come as my plus one," she added slyly, her eyes flicking toward Daniel, who stood a short distance away, speaking briefly with a security head.
"You two… honestly look good together. If I didn't know better, I'd mistake you for his wife," she teased, laughing softly.
"Now you're talking nonsense," Esther mumbled, her face flushing despite her protest.
"Am I?" Dija sang with a smirk.
Before Esther could answer, a deep voice called from across the room.
"Daniel!"
A tall, brown-skinned man approached with an easy, confident stride. He was built much like Daniel, broad-shouldered, tailored in a suit that screamed wealth without trying too hard.
"Sankoh," Daniel greeted, shaking his hand with restrained warmth. Sankoh was the kind of friend who rarely called, yet always acted like no time had passed when they met. Business had drawn them together in the past, but Daniel knew better than to let him too close, especially tonight.
"And who is this beautiful gem?" Sankoh asked, his eyes locking on Esther with bold interest.
Daniel's jaw twitched almost imperceptibly. He had hoped this wouldn't happen.
"This is Esther Cole. She's accompanying me tonight," Daniel said, his voice clipped but civil. "Esther, meet Sankoh, a business associate of mine."
Esther gave a polite smile. "Pleasure to meet you."
Sankoh took her hand with a grin far too smooth for Daniel's taste, lowering his lips toward her knuckles.
"Charmed," he said. "I'm Sankoh, CEO of S.K Tech. And may I say, you are absolutely stunning tonight."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. His shoulders stiffened, and one hand flexed unconsciously at his side.
"Nice to meet you, Mr.." Esther began.
"Please," Sankoh interrupted, his eyes never leaving hers. "Just Sankoh. And forgive me if I'm forward, but if you're not taken, I'd very much like to change that."
Esther blinked, caught off guard by the directness. A flicker of discomfort crossed her face. Something about the man didn't sit right with her, his tone too slick, his smile too sure.
And then..
"She's not available," Daniel said flatly.
His voice was calm, but the underlying steel in it silenced everyone around them.
Esther's eyes widened. Dija's jaw dropped a little, a delighted gleam forming in her gaze.
Sankoh raised both brows and let out a laugh, raising his hands in surrender. "Relax, my man. I was only messing with you. Trying to ruffle your feathers." He turned to Esther. "Apologies, truly. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Just proving your date here still has fire in him."
"That's enough," Daniel said quietly, but his tone ended the matter.
Sankoh smirked and gestured ahead. "Come, let's catch up. Esther, forgive me again, but I'll have to steal your charming date for a while."
Before Esther could even correct him, He's not my…, Sankoh had already led Daniel off.
Esther let out a long breath.
"What just happened?" she muttered, still trying to make sense of it.
"That," Dija said, looping her arm through Esther's, "was two men low-key fighting over you."
Esther blinked. "What? You're joking. Mr. Lewis didn't even react."
Dija gave her a please look. "Are you the slowest psychology student in the country? He was seething. If Sankoh had kissed your hand for a second longer, Daniel would've broken it."
Esther looked off in the direction they'd gone, chewing the inside of her cheek. Her heart pounded, but her mind fought to stay grounded.
Daniel? Jealous?
No. He was probably just being protective, that was all. She was his employee, and this was a high-profile event. It made sense.
Still…
She sighed and muttered under her breath, "Dija sees romance in every shadow."
But even as she said it, a part of her wondered, what if this time, her friend was right?.