The penthouse studio on the 80th floor of Aurora Plaza had been reserved entirely for them.
Golden sunlight filtered through towering glass windows, pouring over silk curtains and reflecting off the polished white floors. The team from Lumière Weddings—a luxury magazine and photography agency—had spent hours preparing the space for the most anticipated engagement shoot of the year.
Liyana stood near the mirror, wrapped in an off-white, satin gown with delicate pearl embellishments that traced her silhouette like soft constellations. Mira fluttered around her, adjusting the trail while the stylist secured the last few strands of hair into a loose, elegant chignon. Every angle of her radiated poise, grace—and subtle nerves she expertly hid behind her calm exterior.
"Are you sure I don't look too formal?" Liyana murmured, tilting her head.
Mira gave her a soft smile. "You look like the woman every man regrets losing and the woman only one man gets to love."
Liyana's lips twitched at that. "Cheesy."
"But accurate," Mira winked before stepping aside.
Just then, the sliding doors opened—and Damien walked in.
Wearing a crisp ivory tuxedo and tailored black trousers, he looked every inch the powerful tycoon the world feared… but in this moment, his gaze softened the moment it landed on her.
He stopped in his tracks, stunned into brief silence. "You're unreal," he murmured, his voice low and reverent.
Liyana turned slowly, locking eyes with him. "Don't get distracted, Mr. Lu. We have a shoot to finish."
He chuckled, stepping closer, gaze intense. "Impossible. You're too distracting."
The photographer cleared his throat gently, smiling at the couple. "If you two are done melting each other with your eyes, shall we begin?"
The first few photos were formal—posed by the arched windows, with Damien standing behind Liyana, hand resting on her waist, their profiles elegant and regal. But soon, the formality gave way to something more natural.
A soft moment: Liyana turning to whisper something in Damien's ear, and him smiling so gently it looked foreign on his usually stone-like face.
Another moment: Damien brushing a strand of hair off her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin longer than necessary, as if memorizing the feel of her.
Liyana surprised everyone when she suddenly laughed—light, airy—after Damien whispered something only she could hear.
"What did you say?" the photographer asked, amused.
Damien didn't look away from Liyana. "A private joke."
The shoot moved into a second phase—more relaxed now. Damien changed into a charcoal suit while Liyana wore a blush-colored lehenga inspired by modern Eastern silhouettes, soft and romantic, with threadwork roses embroidered on the edges. It matched the floral garden set constructed behind them—a dreamlike display of wildflowers and cherry blossoms.
In one setup, Liyana sat on a vintage swing draped in soft silk vines. Damien stood behind her, holding the ropes, his head lowered next to hers. It wasn't staged anymore—it felt real. His arms circled around her waist, their bodies pressed together as he whispered something again, and this time, her laughter turned into a soft blush.
"You're really enjoying this," she teased as they took a break.
He handed her a glass of water. "I get to spend hours holding you, looking at you like you're mine... Of course I'm enjoying this."
She sipped, eyes lingering on his. "You've always had that possessive tone."
Damien leaned in, brushing a kiss near her temple. "Because I've always wanted you."
For a moment, she didn't respond. The noise around them—the crew, the makeup artists, the flashes—faded into a blur. Her eyes searched his. "Damien… why now?"
He didn't pretend not to understand.
"Because I was a coward before," he said plainly. "I told myself I needed to protect you, stay focused on building the empire, prove myself... But I've realized none of it matters if you're not part of it."
Liyana didn't reply right away. Her fingers reached for his hand.
"I still hate how you handled things back then," she whispered. "But I can't deny... I've always wanted this."
They stood like that for a while—two strong hearts, worn by time, softened by love.
The shoot resumed, but something had shifted.
The final photos were candid: Damien lifting Liyana in his arms, her head thrown back in surprise and laughter. Another where she adjusted his cufflinks while he watched her with the fondest expression.
The last one was the most intimate: Liyana curled against his chest, his arms encircling her protectively as he kissed the top of her head.
The photographer, touched, lowered his camera. "I think that's it. You've given us everything."
As they stepped off the set, hand in hand, Damien turned to her.
"Liyana, let's make a promise."
She raised an eyebrow. "Another one?"
"This one's simple," he murmured. "No matter what happens—family, business, enemies—you and I stay the constant."
Liyana smiled softly, intertwining her fingers with his. "Always."
But outside the pristine walls of the studio, the world was already stirring. Whispers of Qin's next move and a powerful, unnamed force stirring in the shadows began to circulate among the elite.
For now, though, in front of the camera and within each other's arms, Liyana and Damien stood framed in light, framed in forever.