Chapter Text
The hotel ballroom was too brightly lit for unwanted encounters.
Crystals reflected the warm light of the chandeliers, waiters glided among the guests with champagne glasses and practiced smiles, and the business elite conversed in calculated tones—as if every word had been rehearsed beforehand.
Kiara Carrera entered with firm steps, a minimalist black dress, impeccable posture. She had known this type of event forever. She knew exactly where to stand, who to talk to, and, above all, who to avoid.
Too late.
—Kiara Carrera…—the male voice came laden with irony—punctual as always. Still think this is a competition?
She closed her eyes for a split second before turning.
JJ Maybank was leaning against the bar, his suit perfectly tailored, a lazy smile on his face. The kind of smile that had always irritated her—because he knew exactly the effect it had.
—JJ.—She replied coldly.—Still arriving early just to impress your father?
He raised his glass in a silent toast.
“Someone needs to look interested,” he said. “Or do you think these people are here for the canapés?”
Kiara stepped forward, sizing him up.
“Funny you talk about appearances,” she commented. “You’ve always been great at seeming more responsible than you really are.”
JJ smiled, but his eyes narrowed.
“And you’ve always been great at pretending you don’t care about anything that’s not under your control.”
They stood face to face for a moment that was far too long for two occasional rivals. Far too short for two strangers.
“I still can’t believe our names are on the same guest list,” Kiara said. “It must have been a mistake.”
“Or a taunt from the universe,” JJ replied. “It loves putting incompatible people in the same space.”
“Incompatible?” Kiara raised an eyebrow. “At least we agree on that.”
A click of cameras caught their attention. A group of investors approached, curious, too attentive to the proximity of the two.
JJ leaned in slightly, his voice low.
"Smile," he murmured. "They're watching."
"Don't tell me what to do," Kiara replied, maintaining her friendly smile.
"Relax," he said. "At least here, we only exchange barbs. For now."
She stared at him.
"Don't get used to it," she said. "I don't usually share space with problems."
JJ tilted his head, amused.
"And I don't usually get ignored," he replied. "Looks like tonight is a night for exceptions."
The flashes intensified. To those watching from afar, JJ and Kiara seemed perfectly aligned—close, elegant, connected.
But between them, the air was heavy with something old.
Competition. Pride. Unresolved history.
And neither of them imagined that this would only be the first event…
before a clause changed everything.
The cameras finally turned elsewhere.
Kiara exhaled just as the flashes stopped, her smile fading the instant the photographers turned their attention elsewhere. She turned away from JJ without a word, the distance between them deliberate.
"Still exhausting, huh?"
She turned and saw JB approaching, impeccably dressed, his eyes piercing in that way only an older brother can. He offered her a glass of water instead of champagne.
"You saw that, didn't you?" Kiara said, accepting.
"I saw everything," JB replied. "Especially the part where you looked like you wanted to push him into the decorative fountain."
She almost smiled.
"He hasn't changed."
JB followed her gaze to where JJ was on the other side of the room, laughing casually with a group of executives.
"He's very good at pretending," JB said bluntly.
“I know,” Kiara replied. “He always has been.”
JB watched her for a moment, lowering his voice.
“Then why does it still bother you?”
Kiara didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she took a slow sip of water, trying to calm herself.
“Because he never plays to win like I do,” she said. “And people mistake that for charm.”
JB nodded once.
“Dad’s been hearing rumors,” he added. “About the board. About the investors getting nervous.”
Kiara clenched her teeth.
“That’s why we’re here tonight,” she said. “To appear united. Controlled. Untouchable.”
“You don’t appear untouchable,” JB replied gently. “You appear irritated.”
She looked at him.
“That’s my version of calm.”
Before JB could respond, a familiar laugh cut through the air.
“Wow.” "Already in the family corner?" JJ's voice came from behind them. "I didn't know this was a support group."
JB turned slowly, unimpressed.
"Funny," he said. "I was thinking the exact same thing about you and your audience. Speaking of which, where's pretty Cameron?"
JJ's smile didn't waver, but something intensified in his gaze.
"Relax. I'm just here to survive the night. Just like everyone else, and JB, don't come near my sister."
Kiara met his gaze, cold and firm.
"Try not to make things difficult for the rest of us."
JJ raised his hands in a feigned surrender.
"No way."
A pause passed. Charged. Calculated.
JB moved a little closer to his sister, protective without being obvious.
"Enjoy the party, Maybank," he said. "From a distance."
JJ chuckled.
“Careful, JB,” he replied. “People might think you don’t trust me.”
JB didn’t smile.
“People would be right.”
JJ held Kiara’s gaze for one last second before returning to the middle of the crowd.
When he was gone, Kiara let out a sigh she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
“He’s going to be trouble,” JB said.
Kiara nodded.
“He already is.”
Across the room, JJ glanced back once, just enough to see Kiara lean slightly toward her brother—firm, cautious, unwavering.
For the first time that night, his smile faded.
Because whatever game was coming…
It wouldn’t just be between him and Kiara.
And blood ties, he realized, always came before appearances.