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Yalda had tried her best to not stare at Maria, she had tried her best to act natural though her heart was thumping again her chest heavily.
She could feel Maria’s eyes on her. Not directly. Not obviously. But every now and then, as if she couldn’t help herself, she’d cast a glance in her direction. Quick. Appraising. Almost… uncertain.
Yalda couldn’t decide if she was being paranoid or if Maria was just as thrown off by her presence as she was by hers.
Ioannis, ever composed, had introduced Yalda to a couple of sharply dressed men and women, powerful in their own right, and she tried to keep up, answering formally, smiling when expected. But her mind was no longer here.
It was back on the way Maria had looked at Ioannis. Not like she wanted him. No, there was distance in that look. But it was a look nonetheless. A complicated one. Old. Intimate. Heavy.
And what unsettled Yalda most wasn’t Maria, It was Ioannis. She could feel his discomfort rolling off him in waves, like a heat barely concealed beneath his cool exterior.
His gaze flickered back to her's and he arched a brow slightly in an unspoken question; are you alright?
She nodded while trying to smile like everything was perfectly fine. A voice interrupted them, low, commanding, and unmistakable.
“Ioannis Andreas.”
He turned.
There stood Maria’s father, Leandros Dimitri. A man of wealth, stature, and a painfully rigid sense of pride.
“Mr. Dimitri.” Ioannis greeted.
“Still formal,” the older man said with a short chuckle, clasping Ioannis’s hand firmly. “I suppose some things never change.”
He looked between Ioannis and Yalda, and for a fleeting second, his lips pressed into a thin line. Not disapproval, just calculation.
“And this must be your guest,” Leandros said.
“My partner,” Ioannis replied smoothly, pulling Yalda slightly forward. “Yalda Harris.”
The older man gave her a nod, polite but distant, then turned his attention back to Ioannis without so much as a second glance.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” Leandros said, his voice lowering into a businesslike tone. “We need to finalize the details for the Capri investment. The board wants to fast-track construction by the end of the quarter. The environmental permits can be worked around.”
Ioannis’s jaw tightened. “That wasn’t our agreement.”
Leandros smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Agreements shift when money’s involved. You should know that better than anyone.”
Ioannis caught Maria’s figure in his periphery now, lingering not far off. She wasn’t looking at her father. She wasn’t even pretending to be part of the conversation.
She was looking at Yalda.
Again.
Deliberate glances that lasted a heartbeat too long. Not hostile, just... probing. Curious.
And Yalda had noticed. Her expression hadn’t changed, but he could feel her slipping; retreating inward like she did when something pierced too close to the heart.
“Ioannis?”
He turned sharply back to Leandros.
The man looked slightly amused. “Did you hear what I said?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“We’ll talk later. This isn’t the place.”
Leandros raised an eyebrow. “You’re usually sharper than this. You seem distracted."
He clearly didn't care that both Maria and Ioannis were uncomfortable, he was aware but he didn't give much of a damn.
Before Ioannis could respond, he felt Yalda’s fingers leave his sleeve.
“I’ll be right back,” she said softly, her voice calm. “I just need the restroom.”
She didn’t wait for his response.
He watched her walk away, her back straight, chin high, but he knew her well enough by now. That composure wasn’t peace. It was armor.
When he turned back, Maria was no longer glancing. She was staring. And Leandros, perceptive despite his arrogance, shook his head and took a step back.
“I’ll give you two a moment,” he said, already walking away before Ioannis could argue.
Ioannis remained still, barely breathing.
The room seemed louder now, glasses clinking, soft laughter swirling with music and conversations, but all of it blurred at the edges.
He didn’t go to Maria. But he didn’t leave either. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do at the moment.
She approached slowly, her heels clicking gently against the marble. There was no smile on her lips. Just that same expression he remembered; carefully composed, always a little sad, even when she was happy.
He let out a heavy breath as he let his gaze settle on her.
For the first time since his arrival, he allowed himself to truly look at her. Stripped of memory and sentiment, he tried to see her as she was now, this version of the woman he had once known well.
She was, by every standard, beautiful. The gown she wore clung to her like second skin, her makeup was meticulous, her posture poised. Yet, beneath the flawless presentation, he saw the sadness still.
Her eyes, lined in gold shimmer, carried no spark, just fatigue. She seemed to have lost some weight; her seemed almost fragile.
Melancholy clung to her like perfume, subtle but heavy, present in the downward curve of her shoulders, the paleness of her complexion under the lights, the way her fingers tightened around the clutch in her hand like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
She wasn’t glowing tonight. Not to him.
Others might call her breathtaking, might envy the stillness she moved with, but Ioannis saw the cracks. She was stuff because she was carrying too much burden within.
She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She wasn’t looking at anything.
Just standing there, head slightly bowed, staring at the marble floor like it might speak to her if she stood still long enough.
He didn’t speak, and neither did she.
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