Chapter 3 The First Move

The gala was in full swing now. Crystal chandeliers blazed above, dripping with light that made every diamond shimmer sharply, every champagne glass glow golden. The air was perfumed with money, ambition, and the faint undercurrent of desperation-men chasing deals, women chasing names, everyone chasing something.

Jason Jae thrived in it.

He adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit as he drifted through the crowd, every step purposeful. People parted when they saw him coming-some with admiration, some with envy, many with thinly veiled fear. Jason caught the whispers and let them roll over him like music. Ruthless. Brilliant. Dangerous. The labels clung to him like armor, and he wore them well.

And yet...his attention wasn't on the sea of eager faces tonight. It was on her.

Across the ballroom, near one of the exhibits set up for the evening, she stood with two other women. Jason didn't know her name yet, but her presence was a disturbance in his carefully controlled world.

She wasn't the most dazzling woman in the room, at least not in the way society usually measured it. Others had brighter jewels, louder gowns, hungrier eyes. But she carried herself differently. There was no desperation in her smile, no calculated gleam when she spoke. She seemed untouched by the chaos around her, as though the glitz and clamor couldn't quite reach her skin.

Jason found himself watching too long.

"Who are you hunting tonight?" Bobby's voice cut through, smooth but edged with amusement. Jason didn't turn. His best friend had a way of reading him too quickly.

"No one." Jason sipped his whiskey, gaze still fixed on the woman.

Bobby followed his line of sight and gave a low whistle. "Ah. So it begins. Thought you said tonight was about networking, not...whatever this is."

Jason finally looked at him. "It is."

"Sure," Bobby said, unconvinced. "Except you've been staring at her for the past ten minutes like she's your next acquisition. Word of advice, Jae-women aren't companies. You can't just corner them into submission."

Jason smirked. "Can't I?"

Bobby shook his head, half-exasperated. "That right there is why people call you reckless. One day, it's going to catch up with you."

Jason let the words hang. Bobby had said versions of this before-warnings about bridges burned, rivals crushed, families ruined in the wake of Jae Enterprises. He always said Jason was too ruthless, too blind to the trail of broken lives. Maybe he was right. But ruthlessness had built this empire. Ruthlessness kept Jason untouchable.

And yet, as his gaze slid back to the woman across the room, Jason felt something strange stir in him. Not possession. Not calculation. Something sharper.

Who was she?

He hated not knowing.

Jason made his way through the crowd, pausing here and there for handshakes, nods, and half-conversations. He had mastered the art of appearing engaged while his mind was elsewhere. Tonight, his mind was locked on unraveling the mystery of the woman who hadn't even looked his way.

He stopped one of the event organizers, a man eager to impress. "The brunette near the east display," Jason said casually, as though the question were an afterthought. "Who is she?"

The man followed his glance. "Ah, yes. That's Gigi Jasmine. Works as an art curator here in New York. She's attending as a guest of..." He hesitated, then smiled. "Of one of the donors."

Jason repeated the name silently. Gigi Jasmine. It sparked nothing in his memory, but the cadence was pleasing. Light on the tongue, like a secret waiting to be spoken aloud.

He thanked the man and moved on, rolling the name in his head. Gigi Jasmine.

When his eyes found her again, she was laughing softly at something her blonde friend had said. The sound didn't carry, but Jason could imagine it, low, genuine, uncalculated. It unsettled him more than it should.

Bobby appeared at his side again. "So now you have a name. What next? Don't tell me you're actually plotting this out."

Jason didn't answer. His drink was finished, his decision made.

He crossed the room.

Every instinct told him this was ridiculous. He didn't chase. He never chased. Women chased him, opportunities bent toward him, and power fell into his hands. And yet here he was, deliberately angling his steps to intercept a woman who hadn't even noticed him.

As he drew closer, Jason studied her in detail. Her gown was simple but elegant, a deep emerald green that caught the light in muted glimmers. Her hair was dark, falling in waves that framed a face more striking the longer he looked-cheekbones sharp, eyes alive but shadowed with something he couldn't name. She carried herself with the grace of someone who knew loss but refused to bow to it.

He was almost at her side when the fake one-Sultana, he recalled from introductions vaguely, spotted him. Her eyes widened, greedy delight flashing across her face.

"Jason Jae," she said, too loudly, tugging on Gigi's arm. "I was just saying we might see you tonight."

Gigi turned.

Her gaze met his, steady and unflinching. Not dazzled. Not awed. Just...curious, maybe faintly wary, as though she were assessing him the way she might assess a piece of art.

Jason felt the corner of his mouth lift. Interesting.

"Jason Jae," he said smoothly, offering a hand.

"Gigi Jasmine." Her voice was calm, measured. She shook his hand briefly, then released it as though contact with him were nothing worth lingering over.

That alone was enough to throw him off balance. Most people clung, eager for more.

"So," Jason said, tilting his head, "do you always stand out in a room full of people trying too hard?"

Her lips curved, not quite into a smile. "Do you always open with rehearsed lines?"

Jason blinked, then laughed. The audacity of it-quiet, sharp, delivered without hesitation. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to him like that.

Bobby, hovering a few steps away, groaned audibly. "Here we go."

Jason ignored him. "Not rehearsed," he said. "Just an observation."

"Then you need to adjust your observations." She took a sip of champagne, eyes not leaving his. "Because I don't stand out. I'm just here."

Jason studied her. Most people fought for the spotlight. She seemed perfectly content not to chase it, and yet she held his focus more tightly than anyone else in the room.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, charged but not uncomfortable. Jason was used to filling silences, to steering conversations. With her, he didn't feel the need.

Finally, she inclined her head politely. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Jae."

She turned back toward her friend, dismissing him without dismissal.

Jason stood there, momentarily still. No one turned away from him. Not without trying to leave something behind.

He should have walked away, laughed it off, and buried the intrigue under business and whiskey. But as he stepped back, a slow smile tugged at his lips.

She thought she could fade into the background. She thought she could dismiss him.

Jason Jae didn't allow dismissals.

"Gigi Jasmine," he murmured to himself as he walked back to Bobby. "You're not disappearing tonight. Not from me."

Bobby raised a brow. "Dangerous words, my friend. You don't even know who she is."

Jason's gaze lingered on her across the room. "Not yet."

But he would.

And something deep in his chest told him that once he knew, he wouldn't stop.