The following weekend, Vivian found herself invited to one of Damian Lancaster's exclusive gatherings—a dinner party hosted at his estate, reserved only for those in his closest circle. That was a victory in itself. She had expected it would take weeks, if not months, to earn such an invitation, but here she was, seamlessly embedding herself deeper into his world.
She arrived in a sleek black dress, understated yet elegant, designed to command attention without demanding it. As she stepped through the grand entrance, she was met with the sight of the city's most powerful figures mingling in the candlelit expanse of Damian's lavish dining hall. The scent of fine wine and aged wood lingered in the air, mingling with the distant notes of classical music floating from the grand piano in the corner.
The moment she entered, Damian's gaze found her. He stood near the long, polished dining table, a glass of whiskey in hand. The flickering candlelight cast golden hues on his sharp features, making him look even more unattainable—yet somehow, she knew she was getting closer.
"Vivian," he greeted smoothly as she approached. His voice was warm, yet laced with that ever-present edge of intrigue. "I'm glad you came."
She allowed herself a small smile, careful to maintain the delicate balance between confidence and allure. "You invited me," she replied, her voice carrying just the right touch of amusement. "I wouldn't dare refuse."
Before Damian could respond, a familiar presence made itself known. Apollo padded over from the side of the room, his movements elegant yet cautious. The dog paused in front of her, studying her with those sharp, intelligent eyes.
Vivian held her breath, waiting.
Then, to her immense satisfaction, Apollo gave the faintest sniff before sitting beside Damian—not in hostility, but in silent acceptance.
Damian's brow lifted slightly. "Impressive."
Vivian tilted her head. "Persistence pays off."
Dinner was an elaborate affair, filled with hushed conversations and knowing glances exchanged over crystal wine glasses. Vivian made sure to place herself strategically, just within Damian's periphery, offering just enough engagement to remain on his mind but not suffocating his attention.
She observed him as he spoke—how effortlessly he commanded the room, how people listened when he talked, how his voice carried the perfect balance of power and restraint. It was no wonder he was unattainable to most.
But she wasn't most.
She took her time, engaging in just the right conversations, laughing at just the right moments, and subtly aligning herself with the people Damian respected. By the time dessert was served, it was clear to anyone watching that she wasn't just another guest—she was an emerging fixture in his world.
After dinner, as guests drifted toward the grand terrace for after-dinner drinks, Vivian found herself standing beside Damian once again, the evening air cool against her skin.
"I have to admit," Damian mused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "I underestimated you."
Vivian smirked, her fingers grazing the stem of her own glass. "I take that as a compliment."
"You should." His gaze lingered on her, unreadable yet intent. "Apollo trusts very few people."
Her heart gave a small, satisfied lurch. "Then I must be doing something right."
Damian let out a low chuckle, taking a slow sip of his drink before looking out over the city lights below. "Perhaps."
A comfortable silence stretched between them, and for the first time, she sensed something different—something shifting. It wasn't just a game anymore. Damian was beginning to see her.
And in the grand chessboard of her plan, that was her most significant move yet.