The tension in the air was palpable as Lian Mei stepped into the opulent ballroom, her chin held high and her sharp gaze sweeping the room. This was yet another high-profile event—a charity gala hosted by Zhao Enterprises. She had been reluctant to attend, but it was one of those appearances she couldn't avoid, given the weight it carried in their shared circles.
The crowd was abuzz with conversation, the clinking of champagne glasses and murmurs of business deals filling the air. Yet, despite the grandeur, Lian Mei felt an unusual tightness in her chest.
She spotted Zhao Yan across the room almost immediately. He stood at the center of a small group, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, exuding an air of effortless authority that made people gravitate toward him.
Lian Mei turned away quickly, trying to focus on anything else. But her reprieve was short-lived.
"Miss Lian," came the familiar deep voice, smooth yet laced with amusement.
Her heart sank. She turned to find Zhao Yan standing behind her, a glass of champagne in his hand.
"Zhao Yan," she replied, her tone neutral but firm. "Shouldn't you be charming the room?"
"Why bother? You're far more interesting than any of them."
She narrowed her eyes. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."
His lips twitched into a small smile. "I wasn't trying to flatter you."
"Then why are you here?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"To remind you," he said, his tone dropping slightly, "that tonight's auction is a joint initiative. I trust you've prepared your speech?"
Lian Mei straightened, meeting his gaze with defiance. "Of course I have. I don't need you to check up on me."
"Good," Zhao Yan replied, his dark eyes lingering on her a moment longer than necessary before he turned and walked away.
Lian Mei exhaled sharply, annoyed at how easily he got under her skin.
The night dragged on, the auction proceeding as planned. Lian Mei delivered her speech flawlessly, her poised demeanor hiding the fact that her mind kept drifting to Zhao Yan. She hated how his presence seemed to command her attention, even when he wasn't near.
As the event began to wind down, Lian Mei stepped outside onto the balcony for some air. The crisp night breeze was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. She leaned against the railing, staring out at the city lights.
"Escaping already?"
She stiffened at the sound of his voice.
Zhao Yan emerged from the shadows, his hands in his pockets. He looked almost relaxed, though his eyes still held that sharp intensity she couldn't ignore.
"I needed a break," she said, turning to face him. "What about you? Don't you have people to impress?"
"I've already done that," he said simply.
She rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. "Of course you have."
They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them crackling like static electricity.
"You did well tonight," Zhao Yan said finally, his tone surprisingly genuine.
Lian Mei glanced at him, taken aback. "Is that... a compliment?"
"Don't let it go to your head," he replied, though there was a hint of warmth in his voice.
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"And you're stubborn," he countered, stepping closer.
She looked up at him, her heart pounding. There was something different about him tonight—a vulnerability he rarely showed.
"You don't know me," she said quietly, her voice laced with defiance.
"I know more than you think," Zhao Yan replied, his gaze unwavering.
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Lian Mei opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat.
Before she could process what was happening, Zhao Yan took another step forward, his presence overwhelming.
"Careful," she warned, her voice trembling slightly. "People might misunderstand."
"I don't care what people think," he said, his voice low.
Lian Mei's breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers brushing against her wrist.
"You're crossing a line," she said, though her voice lacked its usual conviction.
"Then stop me," he challenged.
She didn't.
In a single, fluid motion, Zhao Yan closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both unexpected and electrifying.
Lian Mei froze for a moment, her mind racing. She wanted to push him away, to remind him—and herself—that they were supposed to be rivals. But the intensity of the kiss, the way he seemed to pour every ounce of his confidence into it, left her powerless.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathless.
"You..." she started, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and confusion. "What was that?"
"A mistake," he said, though his tone was anything but apologetic.
Her eyes narrowed, anger flaring in her chest. "Damn right it was."
She stepped back, glaring at him. "Don't think for a second that this changes anything."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Zhao Yan replied, his expression unreadable.
Without another word, Lian Mei turned and stormed back into the ballroom, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She was furious—at him, at herself, at the undeniable spark that kiss had ignited.
But most of all, she was afraid.
Afraid of what it meant.
Afraid of how easily Zhao Yan had broken through the walls she had spent years building.
Lian Mei didn't sleep that night. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the memory of the kiss played over and over in her mind.
Why had he done it? Was it just another move in his endless game of one-upmanship? Or was there something more?
She hated that she didn't have an answer.
By morning, she had resolved to confront him. She wouldn't let him have the upper hand—not this time.
Their next meeting came sooner than she expected. It was a follow-up discussion about the gala's success, held in Zhao Yan's office.
He greeted her with his usual calm demeanor, as if nothing had happened.
"Miss Lian," he said, gesturing for her to take a seat.
She ignored the chair, standing with her arms crossed. "We need to talk."
"About?" he asked, though the flicker of amusement in his eyes told her he already knew.
"You know exactly what," she snapped.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression unbothered. "If this is about last night—"
"It is," she interrupted, her voice firm. "What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," he admitted, his honesty catching her off guard.
Her anger faltered, replaced by confusion. "That's... not an answer."
"It's the truth," Zhao Yan said, standing. He stepped around the desk, closing the distance between them. "I acted on impulse. Something I rarely do, as you know."
Lian Mei held her ground, though her pulse quickened as he came closer.
"Don't think for a second that I'll let this slide," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.
"I wouldn't expect you to," he replied, his gaze locked on hers.
Their standoff lasted several long seconds, neither willing to back down.
Finally, Zhao Yan spoke, his tone softening. "I won't apologize for the kiss, Lian Mei. But I will say this—you bring out a side of me I'm not used to. And I don't know whether to thank you for it or resent you."
His words left her speechless.
For the first time, she saw a glimpse of vulnerability in him—a crack in the carefully constructed facade he always wore.
And it terrified her.