My Belle 18+

The grand ballroom was alive with the hum of conversation, the clink of glasses, and the soft strains of a string quartet. Belle sat beside Adam at the long, elegantly set dinner table. Despite the crowd of polished executives and socialites, she had a knack for making it feel like they were the only two people in the room.

As the conversation flowed around them, Belle leaned slightly toward him, her smile playful. "You know," she said in a low voice, "you look surprisingly well for someone who claims to hate these events."

Adam smirked, adjusting the perfectly tailored suit. "It's called survival. Smile, nod, and endure the small talk. That's the key to events like this."

She laughed softly. "Endure? You make it sound like torture. I, for one, am having a lovely time."

"That's because you're not the one being ambushed by every CEO trying to pitch their next big idea," he quipped, but there was a faint glint of amusement in his eyes.

Belle raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd be used to being the center of attention."

"Let's just say I prefer the kind of attention I can control," he replied, his voice dipping slightly, his gaze lingering on her just a fraction longer than necessary.

The dinner wore on, and though they exchanged teasing remarks and shared a few quiet laughs, Adam found himself growing more distracted. It wasn't the event itself - it was her. The way her laughter cut through the noise, the way she effortlessly charmed everyone around her, and the way she seemed utterly unaffected by the weight of his reputation.

When the music swelled and couples began to move toward the dance floor, Adam made a decision that surprised even himself. Turning to her, he extended his hand, his expression carefully neutral.

"Dance with me" 

Belle blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "You dance?"

"I do tonight."

Her grin widened as she slipped her hand into his. "Well, I can't say no to that."

He led her to the center of the room, his movements measured and confident. As he placed a hand gently on her waist and took her hand in his, a strange sensation settled over him—an unfamiliar mix of anticipation and unease.

Her touch was light but grounding, and as they began to move in time with the music, he realized just how long it had been since he'd allowed himself such simple, human contact. Her presence felt both electric and calming, a contradiction that left him disarmed.

"You're surprisingly good at this," Belle murmured, her voice soft but teasing.

The world around them seemed to blur as the music swirled. Adam's focus narrowed entirely to the warmth of her hand in his, the subtle press of her body against his, and the way her eyes seemed to hold his every thought hostage.

For the first time in years, the ever-present weight of control that he carried eased. He wasn't strategizing, calculating, or keeping people at arm's length. He was just... there, with her.

And it terrified him as much as it intrigued him.

The music wrapped around them, a slow, lilting waltz that seemed to sync perfectly with the steady rhythm of their steps. Adam's hand rested lightly on Belle's waist, his touch firm but careful, as though he wasn't sure how much pressure to apply.

He was acutely aware of every detail: the way her dress brushed against his leg as they moved, the subtle scent of her perfume - floral with a hint of something deeper - and the way her gaze flicked up to meet his every so often, her eyes full of something he couldn't quite name.