Kiara tried to enjoy the party, but something about it made her uneasy. Maybe it was because birthdays, in her mind, were meant to be small family affairs, not lavish displays filled with politicians and strangers. But this was the mayor's wife's birthday — extravagance was to be expected.
Or maybe it was because birthdays had always been... complicated.
Growing up, she never really celebrated hers. Kyle always got the attention. Jennifer would take him out, buy him gifts, and have Maria bake a cake. Kyle would always share it with her, buying her something small, insisting they celebrate together in their room. But after everything — after the kidnapping, after the rescue — birthdays had lost meaning.
So why was she thinking about it now? She'd never cared before — not as a child, and certainly not now as an adult.
She smiled politely and sipped her champagne.
The party was cozy and elegant — perfect for an influential woman like the mayor's wife. Kiara had accepted the invitation to honor her... and, if she was honest, to meet potential clients. Still, she couldn't shake the restlessness pressing against her ribs.
Her thoughts were interrupted as a group of women approached, led by the mayor's wife herself.
"She's the one who designed my dress," the woman said proudly.
"Wow," one of the guests murmured, looking Kiara over. "I love your dress too. Is that diamond?"
Kiara gave a professional smile. "Yes, ma'am. We also sell jewelry, if you're interested."
She'd dressed carefully tonight — not just to look professional, but to turn heads. And though she'd never admit it, she'd dressed to see Jordan's reaction. His stunned expression had been worth every second spent in front of the mirror. Even that woman — she still refused to believe they were dating — had noticed. Hence, the hostility.
"—is exquisite. I'll definitely stop by your shop," one woman was saying.
Kiara realized she'd zoned out again and quickly offered a bright smile. "I'll be expecting you then. Would you like my card?"
All three wanted one, and she obliged. The cards weren't even hers — the real ones said CEO in bold letters, and she couldn't risk using them here. Vivian had refused to make a toned-down version, so she'd borrowed Cassandra's plain ones. Thankfully, they worked.
When the women finally left, Kiara exhaled in relief. She suddenly felt the urge to leave. She took out her phone to call Daniel, her driver.
Daniel had been feeling unwell, so she'd told him to take an Uber home earlier. Normally, she'd drive herself, but he hated that. He was overprotective — in the sweetest, most frustrating way — and she adored him for it. He wasn't just her driver; he was family.
As her phone lit up, a message popped in from Jordan.
> JORDAN: I'M TIRED OF THIS PARTY. ARE YOU BUSY? CAN WE HAVE DINNER TOGETHER? I'LL TEXT YOU THE LOCATION.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
Tired of the party, huh? That was interesting.
She checked the time — a few minutes past nine — and replied that she was free. His quick response, a relieved emoji, made her grin. She called Daniel and convinced him to let her drive, promising to call when she got home. He reluctantly agreed, giving her his usual protective warning and a condition that she call him before she left.
Kiara excused herself from the party, apologizing to the mayor's wife with a fabricated excuse about a sick employee. Technically true — Daniel was sick. She just wasn't going home to check on him.
---
The restaurant was quiet and elegant. The moment she arrived, a waiter approached.
"Good evening, ma'am. Are you Ms. Kiara?"
When she nodded, he led her to the rooftop. It was a private space, reserved for special guests. Clearly, Jordan had gone to great lengths — and expense — to make this happen.
He was already waiting, seated at a candlelit table under the moonlight, that signature confident smile on his face. She smiled back despite herself.
"Is this a date, Jordan?" she teased as she took her seat.
"If that's what you want it to be," he replied smoothly.
"Of course not," she said, feigning indifference. "But this could be misleading for anyone who sees us."
"Then let them be misled," he murmured — eyes dark, voice low.
Something fluttered in her stomach. She broke eye contact quickly, searching for safer ground.
"So, did you leave Vera alone at the party?"
"I didn't leave her. She made me. She and some guy had... chemistry. I was basically a third wheel."
Kiara bit back a laugh. The great Jordan Powell, feeling like a third wheel? Now that was rich. He was the type of man who was the room's center of gravity.
A waiter arrived with a bottle of red wine. Jordan poured them both a glass.
"Hungry?" he asked. "Want to order something?"
She scanned the menu, but nothing tempted her. The birthday party had killed her appetite.
"No. I'm fine," she said, sipping her wine instead.
Jordan studied her as she drank — the way the moonlight softened her features, how the diamonds on her ears and neck caught the light. Even the faint exhaustion in her eyes only made her look more delicate. His gaze dropped to her lips, tinted deep red from the wine.
She licked them absently, and something in him snapped.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath. "To hell with it."
Before she could react, he was out of his chair, closing the distance between them, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss.
Kiara froze, startled — then melted. She hadn't expected it, but his persistence, his warmth, broke through her restraint. With a soft sigh, she gave in. His hands framed her face, deepening the kiss until the world seemed to disappear.
Then — ring!
They jerked apart, breathless. Kiara fumbled for her phone, dazed. The screen flashed Summer.
"Hey, Summer," she said, trying to steady her voice. "What's wrong?"
"An attempt was just made on Mrs. Wyatt's life."
Her blood ran cold. "Where are you?"
"At the Wyatt house."
"I'm coming," she said quickly and hung up.
She turned to Jordan, guilt and panic in her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I have to go. And about that—" she hesitated, "—I shouldn't have."
Before he could stop her, she grabbed her purse and bolted.
By the time he caught up, she was already gone.
Jordan raked a hand through his hair, frustration boiling beneath his calm façade.
"What the hell just happened?"