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.
"You're concentrating awfully hard for someone who's supposed to be relaxing," Belle teased.
Adam huffed a quiet laugh, though his grip on her hand didn't falter. "I'm trying to remember the steps. It's been a while."
"Liar," she said, her voice soft but challenging. "You're a natural."
"Maybe I'm just inspired by my partner," he replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Belle chuckled, tilting her head slightly. "Flattery from Adam Morgan? I should mark my calendar."
He found himself smiling—an unguarded, genuine smile that he wasn't sure she'd ever seen before.
"You're quiet," she said softly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts.
"I'm just..." He hesitated, unsure how to put the unfamiliar sensation into words. "This isn't something I usually... do."
"Dance?"
"Let people in," he admitted, almost inaudibly, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to hers.
Her expression softened, the playful edge giving way to something more sincere. "Maybe you should do it more often. You're not so bad at it."
As they swayed together, Adam's hand was firm on her waist, his touch leaving traces of warmth on her skin. The distance between them was minimal, but Belle could feel it - an unspoken space, a coolness he maintained even as they danced closely. His body was strong, steady, but his demeanor was cautious, restrained.
Belle raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in the air. Her voice came out in a playful whisper, tinged with curiosity. "You're so far away, Adam. Almost like you're afraid to get too close," she teased.
For a heartbeat, Adam didn't respond, his gaze hardening slightly, studying her. Then, without warning, he pulled her sharply towards him, his hand at her back guiding her firmly as he wrapped both arms around her waist. The sudden closeness took her by surprise, her breath catching in her chest as their bodies pressed together completely.
"Is this close enough?" he murmured, his voice low, almost daring her to challenge him.
She swallowed, heart racing, as she looked up at him. For a moment, the world seemed to pause—his presence overwhelming, and her body too aware of his every move. Just then, the song came to an end. Belle stepped back slightly, breaking the spell that had wrapped around them. She took a breath, her pulse still quickening from the closeness.
"I—uh, I need to go to the bathroom," she said, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts she wasn't quite ready to face.
Adam stood still for a moment, trying to gauge the meaning of her sudden retreat. But he said nothing, just watched her walk away, the space between them once again filled with a charged silence.
***
The gala had finally started to wind down, the once-bustling room now quieter as guests filtered out into the night. Bella stood near the grand windows, gazing out at the city lights below. The evening had been a whirlwind of polite conversations, forced smiles, and endless champagne. She barely registered Adam's approach until his reflection appeared beside hers in the glass.
"Long night?" he asked, his voice smooth but low enough not to disturb the calm around them.
She turned her head slightly. " How do you not get tired of this? I mean... A never-ending parade of networking."
Adam chuckled, his hands sliding casually into his pockets. "You played it well, though. I even saw you laugh at a few bad jokes."
"Had to," she replied.
He leaned closer, his eyes holding hers for a moment. "By the way... care to take a walk before we head back to the hotel?"
Bella raised an eyebrow. "A walk? What, you're not tired of me yet?"
Adam smirked. "Not even close. Come on," he said, tilting his head toward the exit. "The city looks better up close than from behind glass."
The night was alive with the hum of traffic and laughter spilling from late-night cafés. Adam kept their pace leisurely, his hand occasionally brushing against hers as they walked. The cool breeze was a welcome contrast to the warmth of the gala.
"Not bad, right?" he asked after a moment of comfortable silence, gesturing to the glittering skyline.
"Not bad," She glanced up at him, her lips curving into a soft smile.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the city fading into the background.
"You know," he said finally, his voice quieter now, "I don't think I've ever had a night like this."
Bella arched a brow."A night like what? Wandering around in overpriced clothes after schmoozing with strangers?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "No. A night where I feel..." He hesitated, the faintest furrow appearing between his brows. "Like I don't have to be anyone but myself."
Bella blinked, momentarily taken aback by the weight of his words. For a man like Adam, who seemed to carry the world on his shoulders, those words felt monumental. She didn't reply immediately, unsure if anything she could say would match the quiet vulnerability he'd just offered.
But then, she smiled. A small, genuine smile that lit up her features. "Good," she said simply. "Because whoever that is... he's not so bad."
Adam let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, though it carried no humor - more like relief. "Careful, Belle. You keep saying things like that, and I might start believing you."
The wind picked up then, a sudden gust that swept down the street and tugged at her wrap. Belle shivered slightly, instinctively pulling the thin fabric of dress tighter around her shoulders.
Without a word, Adam shrugged off his jacket and stepped closer, draping it over her shoulders in one smooth motion. The warmth of it was immediate, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the fabric - a mix of cedar and something sharper, unmistakably him.
Belle looked up at him, her surprise evident. "You didn't have to - "
"I know," he interrupted. "But I wanted to."
"Thank you," she said, her voice quieter now.
He gave a small nod, his hands slipping back into his pockets as they began walking again. For a while, neither of them spoke, the silence between them comfortable, almost intimate.
As they passed a small park, Belle glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "You know, Adam," she said, her tone light but teasing, "if you keep doing nice things like this, I'm going to have to rethink everything I assumed about you."
He smirked, the faintest glimmer of his usual sharpness returning. "Maybe that's the point."
They continued on, their steps slow and unhurried. Adam found himself wondering how it was possible for something as simple as a walk, as small as sharing a jacket, to feel like the start of something he wasn't sure he deserved but couldn't bring himself to let go of.
As they strolled through the park, their conversation meandered, touching on topics both light and deeply personal, the kind of rhythm that only happens when walls come down.
"So," Belle said, glancing sideways at him, "if you weren't running your empire, what would you be doing instead?"
Adam raised an eyebrow. "You mean if I didn't spend my life managing deadlines and corporate chaos?"
"Exactly. What's the 'what if' version of Adam Morgan?"
He hesitated, his gaze fixed ahead. "I've never really thought about it."
"Come on," she pressed. "There must be something. No kid dreams about quarterly reports."
After a moment, he sighed. "I used to love architecture. I thought maybe I'd design buildings one day."
Belle's eyes lit up. "Really? I can actually see that. There's something about the idea of creating something lasting."
He gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "You're surprisingly insightful for someone who spends half her time annoying me."
"You say that, but I think deep down, you enjoy this dynamic. You'd miss me if I wasn't around."
Adam arched a brow. "Miss you? That's a bold assumption."
"Oh, come on," she said. "Don't act like you wouldn't. Who else challenges you the way I do?"
He pretended to think about it, his lips twitching. "Can't say anyone else has the same... flair for it."
"See? You'd be bored without me"
"Or more productive," he countered smoothly.
Belle laughed. "Productivity is overrated. A little chaos never hurt anyone."
"What happens when chaos gets out of control?"
"Simple," she shot back. "You adapt. Roll with it. Sometimes the best things come out of a little disorder."
He shook his head. "Spoken like someone who thrives on making my life unpredictable."
Belle grinned."Admit it - you'd be bored otherwise."
Adam opened his mouth as if to retort but stopped, his smirk deepening. "You really think you've figured me out, don't you?"
She took a step closer, tilting her head as if studying him. "You secretly like it. You just don't want to admit it."
"And if I did? What then?" He met her gaze.
Belle paused, her grin softening as she held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. "Well, then I'd say you're finally getting in touch with that 'what if' version of Adam Morgan."
Adam chuckled, his hand brushing hers briefly as they continued walking. "You've got quite the imagination, Belle."
They kept walking in silence before she spoke.
"By the way, do you ever think about the future?"
Adam's jaw tightened slightly. "I think about work. Plans, projections, numbers. That's the future for me."
"Not personal things? No big house with a family, a dog running around?"
He chuckled softly. "I never let myself picture that. Too many unknowns. Too much risk."
"But what if it wasn't a risk? What if it was... worth it?"
For a long moment, he didn't answer, his gaze focused on the horizon. "I don't know. I think I'm still figuring that out."
To lighten the mood, Belle switched gears. "Okay, serious question. What's your guilty pleasure?"
Adam raised an eyebrow, amused. "You first."
"Fine," she said with mock exasperation. "Bad romantic comedies. The cheesier, the better."
He smirked. "I would've guessed that."
"Hey! Don't knock it until you've tried it," she said, poking his arm lightly. "Your turn."
After a brief pause, he admitted, "French pastries."
Her laughter was instant and infectious. "Wait - you're telling me the ruthless Adam Morgan has a weakness for croissants?"
He smiled despite himself. "Pain au chocolat, specifically. But don't spread it around. It'll ruin my reputation."
The air was crisp as they strolled through the quiet park, the soft rustle of leaves underfoot accompanying their footsteps. She turned her head slightly, glancing back at Adam.
"Do you think love has an expiration date?"
Her question lingered in the cool night air, catching him off guard. Adam stopped mid-step, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered her words. "Why do you ask?"
Belle shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I've always wondered. You see people fall so deeply in love, but then... time passes, and it fades. Or they change. Or maybe it just wasn't real to begin with."
Adam's gaze held hers. "You think love isn't real if it doesn't last forever?"
She let out a soft laugh."I think people want it to last forever, but life gets in the way. People get in the way."
He stepped closer. "I think love changes," he said finally. "It evolves. What it starts as isn't what it ends as, and maybe that's what makes it real. It's not about staying the same - it's about whether it can survive the changes."
Belle tilted her head, studying him as though seeing something new in his face. "And do you think it can survive?"
Adam's lips twitched into a faint smile. "I'm probably the last person you should be asking that,"
Her brows knitted together at his words, but she didn't look away. "Maybe not," she replied softly. "But sometimes the people who don't believe in love have the most to teach about it."
"Or the most to unlearn," he murmured, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting hers again. "Either way, I don't have the answers you're looking for, Belle."
The walk back to the hotel was quiet, their footsteps echoing against the deserted sidewalk. Belle hugged his jasket tighter around her, the chill of the night lingering despite the warmth she felt walking beside Adam.
When they entered the lobby, the soft hum of background music filled the air, and the receptionist barely glanced up as they made their way to the elevator. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and they stepped inside.
Belle leaned casually against the wall, her eyes flickering to the floor numbers as the elevator began its ascent. "Why so quiet?" she said, her tone light but curious.
Adam stood a step away, his hands buried in his pockets, his jaw set as though he was deep in thought. "Just thinking."
"About what?" she asked, turning to face him fully, her expression open and inviting.
His gaze met hers, he took a slow step toward her, closing the distance between them. "About how hard it is to stop myself when we're alone like this," he admitted.
Belle's breath caught, her pulse quickening. "Who said you have to stop?" she whispered, her voice daring and soft.
The elevator slowed, the soft chime signaling they were nearing his floor. Belle's heart quickened, her usual witty retort caught somewhere in her throat.
"Adam..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
But before she could say more, he stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking in an instant. He raised a hand, hesitating for just a moment before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You make me forget what I'm supposed to be," he murmured, his voice almost pained, as if admitting it cost him something.
Her breath hitched, her pulse racing as she searched his face. "Maybe that's not a bad thing," she said softly.
The elevator doors opened with a quiet ding, but neither of them moved.
And then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned in. His lips brushed hers softly, and when she didn't pull away - when she tilted her head to meet him halfway - the kiss deepened.
His hand slid up to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing against her cheek as his tongue traced the seam of her lips. She parted them instinctively, allowing him in, and the kiss shifted from tentative to consuming. Bella's fingers found their way to his hair, tangling in it as she pulled him closer.
His other hand, which had been lightly holding her waist, slid lower and squeezed her ass, causing her to moan into the kiss.
"Fuck, Adam..." she muttered
"Shhh, Belle, shut up," he whispered, then went back to his work, deepening the kiss while simultaneously pressing the button to stop the elevator doors.
When they finally broke apart, the silence between them was thick with everything they weren't saying. Belle blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed and breathing uneven.
"Adam," she started, her voice unsteady.
But he shook his head, his thumb brushing against her cheek for the briefest second. "Goodnight, Belle," he said, his tone softer than she'd ever heard it.
Before she could respond, he stepped back, allowing the elevator doors to close between them.