Chapter 4 The Shadow She Doesn't Want

The moment his hand slipped from hers, Gigi felt the weight of it linger.

Jason Jae.

His name rolled in her mind like a stone she didn't want to pick up but couldn't stop feeling underfoot. Everything about him had radiated wealth, power, and the kind of confidence that bordered on arrogance. She'd seen men like him before-too many of them. They didn't build; they consumed. They didn't nurture; they destroyed.

And yet...why did she remember the sharp curve of his smile, or the way his gaze seemed to look through her and not past her?

"Gigi." Sultana Bricks' voice dragged her out of her thoughts. "Can you believe Jason Jae just came over here to talk to us?"

Not us, Gigi thought dryly. To me. But Sultana's tone was already dripping with possessive delight, like a child pressing her face against a toy shop window, imagining everything inside belonged to her.

"He's...a man," Gigi said simply, lifting her champagne flute again. The bubbles fizzed against her lips, bitterer than she remembered.

"A man?" Sultana gawked, her smile twitching. "He's the Jason Jae. Billionaire. CEO of Jae Corporation. Practically royalty in this city." She leaned in, eyes darting, voice lowering like she was imparting sacred knowledge. "Women throw themselves at him. Do you know how rare it is for him to notice anyone? And he noticed you."

Gigi set her glass down on the table beside her, irritation coiling tight in her chest. "Noticed is one word. Cornered is another. I'm not interested, Sultana."

Sultana's laugh was brittle. "Oh, come on. Don't act like you didn't feel it. That man doesn't even have to try. He walks into a room, and every woman in it thinks about what it would be like to be on his arm. Admit it-he rattled you."

Her fake sweetness pressed against Gigi's ears like nails on glass. She didn't answer, choosing instead to look across the ballroom.

Jason was still there, standing with his friend-the tall one with easy charm, who'd been watching the entire exchange with a kind of resigned amusement. Jason wasn't mingling now, wasn't networking, wasn't doing what men like him usually did at these events. He was watching her.

Gigi's stomach tightened.

She turned her back quickly, forcing her attention on Isabella Hart, who had been quiet through the exchange. Isabella's golden hair gleamed under the chandeliers, her smile soft as always, but her eyes were sharp-she missed nothing.

"Well?" Isabella asked, tilting her head. "What did you think?"

Gigi exhaled slowly. "He's exactly what he looks like. The kind of man I swore I'd never waste a second of my life on."

"And what does he look like?" Isabella pressed, clearly enjoying the game.

"A man who believes the world is his to take." Gigi's voice was steady, even as her insides stirred. "And I don't care how much money he has, or how many women would kill for his attention. Men like Jason Jae destroy everything they touch."

There was a brief silence. Isabella reached over and squeezed her hand under the table, grounding her. "Then it's a good thing you're smart enough not to let him touch you."

Gigi smiled faintly, grateful. Isabella always had a way of cutting through her walls without forcing them down.

But Sultana rolled her eyes, though her lips curved like she was still the supportive friend. "You're being dramatic, Gigi. He's successful, not evil. And besides"-her gaze flicked toward Jason like a moth to flame-"if he looked at me like that, I wouldn't be pretending I didn't care."

Gigi felt her chest tighten again, not from jealousy, but from something harder to name. Sultana's hunger was obvious, though she dressed it up as harmless curiosity. And Jason...

She forced herself to breathe. No. She wouldn't start that line of thought.

Not tonight. Not ever.

The gala stretched on, a blur of introductions and shallow laughter. Gigi smiled when she had to, conversed when it was polite, but her mind kept snagging on that single encounter. She reminded herself, over and over, that Jason Jae was nothing more than a man she had happened to meet tonight.

But she felt him still, across the room. His presence pressed against her like a shadow she hadn't invited but couldn't ignore.

When the orchestra shifted into its last song of the evening, Gigi excused herself from her group, desperate for a breath of air. She moved toward the terrace, where cool night air drifted through open doors. The city glittered below, endless lights reflected in the dark sweep of the Hudson.

She leaned against the railing, closing her eyes for a moment. He doesn't matter. He can't matter.

"Running away already?"

Her eyes flew open.

Jason was standing at the edge of the terrace, not close, but not far enough for comfort. The moonlight caught the edges of his profile, making him look sharper, almost unreal.

"I wasn't aware I owed anyone my attendance," Gigi said, straightening. Her tone was calm, but her pulse betrayed her.

He smiled faintly. "You don't. I just expected you'd stay long enough to enjoy being the most interesting woman in the room."

Gigi almost laughed. Almost. "Is that what you say to every woman who doesn't swoon at your introduction?"

Jason's eyes gleamed, amusement flickering. "No. Most don't give me a reason to."

Her breath caught, and she hated that it did. She turned back toward the city, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

"Well," she said, her voice cool, "then I suppose this conversation is over."

She walked past him before he could answer, heels clicking against the marble floor, spine straight. She didn't look back.

But she felt his eyes on her until she disappeared into the crowd again.

Later that night, as she slipped into the backseat of the car Isabella had arranged for them, Gigi pressed her head against the window.

Isabella dozed lightly beside her, the soft hum of the city carrying them home. Sultana sat across, scrolling through her phone, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Gigi closed her eyes, Jason Jae's face flickering behind her eyelids. The way he looked at her-as if she wasn't just another socialite, as if he'd found something rare.

She clenched her hands into fists.

"No," she whispered to herself, so softly no one could hear.

She wouldn't be like the rest. She wouldn't let a man like that get close.

Not when she knew, better than anyone, how much power like his could destroy.

But as the city lights blurred past, a quiet fear unfurled in her chest: that no matter how hard she tried, Jason Jae wasn't going to disappear.

And worse-some part of her wasn't sure she wanted him to.