Bianca opened her door to find Ken standing there, dressed to perfection. His tailored black suit and silver tie framed his broad shoulders, and his polished shoes reflected the light. He grinned at her, his hands in his pockets.
"Will you be my date to the gala?" he asked.
Bianca blinked in surprise. "What happened to Imelda?"
Ken's expression turned apologetic. "She's out for the count—bad case of food poisoning. She insisted the seat couldn't go empty and thought you'd be the perfect stand-in."
Bianca raised a brow, trying to process what she'd just heard. "Imelda suggested this?"
"Yes," he said with a chuckle. "She mentioned how you helped her prep and figured you'd fit right in. Plus, we can't afford an empty seat. Bad optics."
Her heart fluttered unexpectedly, but she hesitated. "What about the boys? Jason and Mason can't stay alone."
"Richard already offered to watch them for the night," Ken assured her.
Bianca searched for another excuse but found none. Deep down, she knew she wanted to go. Finally, she sighed. "Okay, Ken. I'd love to be your date."
Ken's grin widened. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. Though I have no idea what to wear to a gala..."
Ken stepped aside and revealed a garment bag he'd been holding. "Funny you should mention that. I thought we could match tonight."
Bianca unzipped the bag to reveal a breathtaking gold gown. The shimmering fabric seemed to catch every ray of light, highlighting its intricate details: one sleeve ran long to the wrist, while the other side was sleeveless, with a daring v-neckline plunging to her waist. A high slit ran up the side, exposing just enough leg to be both elegant and bold.
"It's stunning," Bianca whispered.
Ken leaned in slightly, his voice low. "You'll make it shine."
He excused himself to give her privacy. Bianca looked at the dress and smiled. "If I'm going to be Ken's date, I should go all in," she said to herself.
She slipped into the gown, feeling the cool fabric hug her body. It fit like it was made for her, accentuating her curves perfectly. The v-neck framed her collarbones and revealed just enough to be alluring but classy. Her legs peeked through the slit as she walked, and the fabric's shimmer caught the light with every step.
She styled her hair in an elegant updo, leaving a few strands loose to frame her face. Her makeup was subtle but striking, with a touch of gold on her eyelids to match the dress. A delicate gold necklace rested against her skin, and matching earrings sparkled at her ears.
When Ken knocked, she called out, "Come in!"
He stepped inside, and his breath hitched. Bianca turned slowly, letting him take her in from head to toe. His gaze lingered, warm and intense, before meeting her eyes.
"I was right," he said, his voice husky. "You're stunning."
Ken crossed the room in two strides, his hands grazing the curve of her waist as if checking the fit of the gown.
"Fits like a glove," he murmured.
Bianca's breath caught. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room felt too small.
"Ken..." she began, but he stepped back, breaking the spell.
"We should go," he said, clearing his throat.
"Right. Can't be late," Bianca replied, trying to steady herself.
He offered her his arm, and she took it, savoring the warmth of his touch.
---
The limousine pulled up to the grand venue, and Bianca gasped at the sight. A massive building with glittering chandeliers visible through its floor-to-ceiling windows stood before them. Paparazzi crowded the red carpet, their cameras flashing incessantly.
"Whoa," Bianca whispered. "This is even crazier than your engagement party."
Ken chuckled. "Just smile and nod. Works every time."
He offered her his arm again, and she clung to him as they stepped out of the car.
"Ken! Ken Schuyler! Who's your date tonight? Where's Imelda Salvador?" a reporter called.
Bianca froze, unsure what to say, but another voice chimed in. "Look at that gown! She's gorgeous!"
Bianca glanced at Ken, who gave her a reassuring nod. Mustering her courage, she smiled and struck a graceful pose, her hand resting on Ken's arm.
"No comment," Ken said smoothly, guiding her away from the crowd.
Inside, the ballroom was even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, and the tables were adorned with white roses and gold accents. Guests in designer gowns and tailored suits mingled, sipping champagne as waiters weaved through the crowd with silver trays.
Ken led her to their table, where his parents were already seated.
"Bianca?" Lillian, Ken's mother, said, her voice tinged with surprise. "What a delight to see you here. You look wonderful in that gown."
"Thank you," Bianca said, smiling.
"Where's Imelda?" Jason Sr., Ken's father, asked.
"She wasn't feeling well, so Bianca stepped in to help us fill the table," Ken explained.
"Smart choice," Jason Sr. said with a grin.
Bianca noticed an empty chair across from her. "Are we expecting someone else?"
"Robert canceled last minute," Lillian said with a sigh. "But Jason's old secretary is filling in soon."
Bianca nodded, lowering her voice as she turned to Ken. "You weren't kidding about this empty-seat rule."
Ken chuckled. "It's serious business. Tables are status symbols here."
Suddenly, his gaze shifted across the room. Bianca followed his line of sight and saw a man in a sharp navy suit, standing tall and exuding confidence.
"That's Mike Spencer," she whispered. "Imelda had memorized his profile. Why are we staring at him?"
Ken didn't respond immediately. His expression was unreadable.
---
The gala sparkled with opulence, but all Bianca could focus on was the man sitting beside her. Ken Schuyler. The way he looked at her tonight made her feel like she belonged in this world of glittering chandeliers and designer suits.
"I've been trying to convince Mike Spencer to collaborate with us on a new project," Ken said, leaning closer so only she could hear. His voice was warm, tinged with excitement. "But he's notoriously hard to win over. Care to help me change that?"
Bianca felt a rush of pride at being included. "It'd be my honor," she said with a smile.
As they wove through the room toward Mike, Bianca noticed the subtle shift in Ken's demeanor. His easy charm remained, but there was an edge of purpose now. When they reached Mike, he greeted him with a grin.
"Mike, you're looking sharp," Ken said, offering a firm handshake.
"You too, Ken." Mike turned his gaze to Bianca, his sharp brown eyes assessing her. "And who might this be?"
"This is Bianca Martins," Ken said, placing a hand on her back. "Bianca, meet Mike Spencer—a fellow technophile and, honestly, one of the most brilliant minds in our field. I've been hoping he might brainstorm with me on an upcoming project."
Mike gave her a once-over, his expression neutral but curious. Bianca was glad she had taken the time to dress up tonight. The gown Ken had chosen hugged her curves perfectly, its shimmering fabric catching the light with every movement.
"Pleasure to meet you, Bianca," Mike said, his voice polite but guarded. "Do you work at Schuyler Enterprises as well?"
"I freelance for the company," Bianca said, keeping her tone light. "But I'm considering joining full-time."
"Oh? What's holding you back?" Mike asked, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I love the company's culture," Bianca said honestly. "It's present and mindful. Channels of communication are open, and employees feel heard. Plus, who doesn't love a good nap pod during lunch?"
Mike chuckled, finally relaxing. "Nap pods? Is that Schuyler's secret weapon?"
Ken grinned. "Hey, happy employees are productive employees."
"Fair enough," Mike said. His sharp gaze softened. "I'll admit, I've been on the fence about working with Schuyler Enterprises. But after tonight, I think I'll reconsider."
Bianca caught Ken's eye and mouthed, You're welcome. Ken just grinned, clearly pleased.
As Mike shook Ken's hand and walked away, Ken turned to her with a triumphant smile. "I can't believe that just happened."
"Believe it," Bianca said, laughing. "You're very convincing. Remember how you got me to study flashcards with Imelda for hours?"
Ken was about to respond when Bianca's attention was drawn across the room. She spotted Ken's parents, Jason and Lilian, in what appeared to be a tense conversation with a striking older woman. Her sharp features and sleek silver gown made her impossible to miss.
"That's Beatrice d'Torte," Ken said, following her gaze. "She's one of our major shareholders. Looks like she's upset about something."
"Should we step in?" Bianca asked.
Ken nodded. "Let's go."
When they reached the group, they caught the tail end of Beatrice's heated words.
"...I'm done with the market," she said firmly. "I want to sell my shares."
"Beatrice, please," Jason said, his tone exasperated. "If you pull out now, it'll cause a ripple effect. The other shareholders will panic."
"That's not my concern," Beatrice replied, her expression steely.
Ken cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Beatrice, it's always a pleasure to see you," he said smoothly. "May I introduce Bianca Martins? This is her first gala, and I've been showing her the ropes."
Bianca stepped forward, her smile warm. "Ms. d'Torte, it's an honor to meet you. I couldn't help but overhear... Are you really planning to sell your shares?"
Beatrice hesitated, her gaze flicking to Bianca. "I've lost faith in the market," she admitted. "After the MediShade debacle, I'm not willing to take another risk."
"I understand," Bianca said gently. "But one mistake doesn't define your instincts. Investment is about observation and adaptation, isn't it?"
Beatrice studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Perhaps you're right. Ken, let's schedule a meeting next week to discuss this further."
As Beatrice walked away, both Jason and Lilian stared at Bianca in amazement.
"That was..." Jason began.
"Impressive," Lilian finished.
"That was Bianca in action," Ken said proudly, his eyes shining with admiration.
Before Bianca could respond, the music shifted, and couples began moving to the dance floor. Ken turned to her, his hand extended.
"Dance with me, Bianca?" he asked. "You've more than earned it."
"I'd love to," she said, her heart fluttering.
Ken led her to the dance floor, pulling her close as they swayed to the music. She was acutely aware of his hand on her waist, the warmth of his body against hers.
"I don't really know how to waltz," she admitted.
"Just follow my lead," he said, his voice low and reassuring.
As they moved together, the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, lost in the rhythm. Ken's hand slid lower on her back, and she felt her cheeks flush.
"Bianca," he murmured, his lips close to her ear. "This is our night. No one else's."
Her heart raced at his words, but before she could respond, Ken pulled her off the dance floor and led her to a secluded balcony. The night air was cool and crisp, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of jasmine from the garden below. The city lights twinkled in the distance like scattered diamonds.
"Something on your mind?" Bianca asked softly.
Ken leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on her. "Honestly? I just wanted a moment alone with you. You've been amazing tonight, Bianca. More than I ever expected."
His eyes roamed over her, lingering on the curves of her gown. She shivered under his intense gaze, feeling both exposed and cherished.
"Ken..." she began, but he stepped closer, cutting her off.
"Bianca," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Being here with you tonight... It feels right. Like fate."
Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sent sparks through her entire body. For a moment, she let herself get lost in him, in the warmth of his embrace and the intensity of his touch.
But then reality crashed down around her. She pulled back, her breath coming in short gasps. "Ken, we can't..."
"I know," he said, his voice filled with regret. "But I don't think I can stop myself."
Bianca took a step back, putting distance between them. "We should go back inside."
Ken nodded, but as he turned to leave, he hesitated. "Bianca, I—"
"Please," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not now."
He nodded again and disappeared inside, leaving Bianca alone on the balcony. She leaned against the railing, staring up at the stars.
"What the hell am I gonna do now?" she whispered.