Elena Song never believed her life could change in a single evening. She was a woman who lived quietly, buried under bills and endless responsibilities. By day, she was a junior editor at a failing lifestyle magazine, her workload always heavier than her paycheck. By night, she was the invisible one at every event, the girl people forgot as soon as she turned around.
That night, she hadn’t even wanted to attend the charity gala. The invitation wasn’t even hers—it had been sent to her boss, who decided last minute that she was “perfectly disposable” enough to attend in his place. Elena wore a borrowed black dress, a size too small, and heels that pinched her feet. She kept her head down, clutching a tray of press notes and silently rehearsing how she would slip out early.
But fate was cruelly imaginative.
The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and champagne flutes. Billionaires and heiresses sparkled in gowns that cost more than her annual salary. Elena tried to disappear into the crowd, but her clumsiness betrayed her.
It happened in an instant. One careless step, a bump into a waiter, and the glass of red wine he carried tipped straight onto the chest of the man everyone avoided—the man whose icy aura cut sharper than glass.
The man turned slowly, as though affronts like this were rare—unthinkable, even. His white shirt, tailored to perfection, was ruined by the deep stain. His eyes—cold, metallic gray—met hers.
The world seemed to still.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” His voice was low, dangerous, threaded with authority that made her knees weak.
“I—I’m so sorry,” Elena stammered, fumbling for napkins. Her fingers shook as she tried to blot the stain. “I didn’t mean—”
“Stop.” The single word froze her. He caught her wrist before she touched him, his grip iron yet effortless. “Do you think apologies fix everything?”
Gasps rose around them. Whispers began like wildfire. Elena realized, too late, that she hadn’t just spilled wine on a man. She had offended Adrian Blackwell—the CEO of Blackwell Group, the youngest self-made billionaire in the city, a man whose ruthlessness was legend.
Elena’s stomach dropped.
“I—I’ll pay for it,” she blurted, desperate.
Adrian’s lips curved, but it wasn’t amusement—it was disdain. “Pay? This shirt costs more than your monthly salary, little one. Do you think you can afford it?”
Her cheeks burned. He didn’t know who she was, but he had just stripped her pride bare in front of everyone. She wanted to run, to vanish into the crowd, but his grip on her wrist anchored her in place.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Against her will, she did. His gaze pinned her like prey beneath a predator’s eyes.
“What’s your name?”
“Elena… Song,” she whispered.
“Miss Song,” Adrian said slowly, his tone deliberate. “From this moment on, you owe me. And I always collect my debts.”
The crowd buzzed louder, speculating, feasting on her humiliation.
“I—I really didn’t mean—”
“I don’t care what you meant,” Adrian cut her off, releasing her wrist abruptly. She nearly stumbled back. “Actions have consequences. You’ll find out soon enough.”
And then, without another glance, he strode away, leaving her trembling in the center of the ballroom.
Elena wanted to scream, cry, hide—but all she could do was endure the weight of countless stares. She had no idea that this one accident had sealed her fate.
Because Adrian Blackwell was not a man who forgot.
He was a man who owned.
And tonight, Elena Song had unknowingly become his next possession.
