The black Rolls-Royce slid to a slow stop in front of the grand entrance, its tinted windows shielding the couple from the chaos waiting outside. A wall of flashing cameras, echoing voices, and eager reporters braced themselves just beyond the velvet ropes.

The driver stepped out first. Then came Ryan.

He moved with that dangerous calm that only someone like him could master...black suit perfectly tailored, sunglasses still on even in the fading evening light. He didn’t smile. He never did. But the tension in the crowd changed the second he stepped out. The air got heavier. Thicker.

Without a word, he walked to the other side of the car and opened the door.

Anna reached for his hand.

He took it.

And just like that, she emerged,elegant, poised, draped in a silk champagne-colored gown that shimmered under the camera flashes like liquid light. Her heels clicked softly on the pavement, but it was her smile,the kind that didn’t reach her eyes.....that made the crowd erupt.

Flash.
Flash.
Flash.

The paparazzi exploded with movement and shouts.

“Ryan! Anna! Over here!”
“Is it true? Are you engaged?”
“When’s the wedding?!”
“Anna, can we get a stateme—?!”

A reporter from one of the biggest outlets pushed forward, bold enough to get close.

“When are you both finally getting married?” she asked, voice loud, intrusive.

Ryan paused. Slowly, he turned to Anna, still holding her hand tightly, and pulled her close. He leaned in and kissed her forehead...firm, possessive, meaningful.

Click.
Click.
Click.
The cameras devoured it.

Anna let out a soft, amused breath and looked at the reporter, a mysterious smile curving her lips.
“Soon,” she said, her voice calm but confident. “Very soon.”

That was all it took.

The media went wild.

Before more questions could follow, their lead bodyguard stepped in, stern, thick-shouldered, dressed in black...as a team of security cleared a path.
.

Ryan nodded once, then placed his hand firmly on the small of Anna’s back, guiding her through the noise and chaos like she was made of glass....and he was the only one allowed to touch her.

The luxury hotel doors opened as they entered the venuea high-profile business gala, flooded with Euphoria’s elites, investors, and foreign dignitaries.

Crystal chandeliers sparkled above. Live jazz hummed in the background. The scent of cigars, expensive perfume, and ambition hung thick in the air.

“Welcome, Mr. Romano. Miss Clarke,” the host greeted, bowing slightly. “It’s an honor.”

Ryan gave a tight smile. “Try not to make it one you regret.”

The host laughed nervously, stepping aside.

Anna leaned closer to Ryan as they walked through the crowd.
“You kissed me in front of the cameras,” she whispered.

“I’ll do a lot worse if they keep asking shit that’s none of their fucking business,” Ryan murmured with a dark smirk. “You’re mine, Anna. Let the whole goddamn world choke on it.”

Her lips twitched. “Jealous, are we?”

“Jealous doesn’t even fucking begin to cover it, sweetheart.”
..........

The low hum of conversation filled the grand ballroom, mingling with the clinking of champagne glasses and the rustle of gowns brushing over marble floors. A group of people were gathering on the stage at the far end, lights shifting toward them.

Then the music started, soft at first, the gentle plucking of a guitar, smooth and warm.

Ryan didn’t even bother to glance up. He was standing near the center of the room, talking to a few prominent business partners, Anna’s hand securely in his. His voice was calm, measured, and his grip on her fingers never loosened.

The melody deepened.

And then....

The singer’s voice cut through the air.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forced. It was… haunting.

Ryan’s words stopped mid-sentence. His head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if focusing on something far away. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward the stage.

And there she was.

The singer stood in the golden light....long black hair falling in effortless waves over her shoulder, catching the glow of the chandeliers. Her grey eyes shimmered like smoke, locked on no one yet holding everyone. Her fingers danced effortlessly along the strings of her guitar, every movement precise, every note alive.

Ryan didn’t blink.

The rest of the room blurred...faces, voices, even Anna’s soft laugh. The only thing sharp in his vision was her.

The music swelled again. Her voice rose and fell, each lyric pulling at something deep inside him, something old, something buried. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared.

Anna, still smiling, leaned closer and whispered, “Her voice is so good.”

Ryan didn’t respond. His grip on her hand had gone still, almost cold.

The singer glanced briefly toward the crowd...just a sweep of her gaze....and for a moment, it landed somewhere near him. Her lips curved in the faintest, knowing smile before she looked away again, pouring herself back into the song.

Her band followed her lead, the music tightening, lifting, then dropping into a raw, aching rhythm. People around them swayed, laughed, clapped. Anna joined in, tapping her fingers lightly against Ryan’s arm.

But Ryan…

Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

It was as if the world had narrowed to just that stage, just that voice, just that woman.

.....

The last note lingered in the air before melting into silence. For a heartbeat, the entire hall seemed to hold its breath...then came the applause. It started politely, then swelled into loud cheers and whistles.

The singer lowered her guitar, her lips curling into a soft, genuine smile. She stepped toward the microphone, her voice warm and confident.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Ananya… and she’s Rose,” she said, nodding toward the petite blonde on the keyboard, who gave a small wave. “Rocky…” the drummer grinned and spun one of his sticks“…Jay…”...the bassist dipped his head“…Lisa… Dev… and Brayn.”

Each name earned its own cheer.

“I hope you enjoyed our songs,” Ananya added, brushing a loose strand of black hair back over her shoulder.

From the crowd came a chorus of voices.
“Yeah!”
“We want more!”
“Keep going!”

Laughter rippled through the hall, and Ananya’s smile widened. “Alright then,” she said, the microphone catching the faint lilt of amusement in her tone. “Let’s not keep you waiting.”

The band shifted effortlessly into their next song. The new rhythm was brighter, playful, the kind that made people sway without even realizing it. Champagne glasses clinked in time to the beat, and the low hum of conversation faded as more guests turned to watch.

Anna moved slightly closer to Ryan, still holding his hand, her fingers tapping lightly against his skin. “She’s really good,” she whispered, smiling toward the stage.

Ryan didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on Ananya....steady, unblinking, unreadable. It wasn’t just the music that held him; it was the way her voice carried through the room, the way her fingers danced over the guitar strings as if every note was second nature. Her black hair caught the stage lights, shifting like liquid silk, and those grey eyes… they didn’t search for him, but somehow he felt as if they knew exactly where he was.

Around them, the crowd clapped along, swaying, smiling. Anna joined in, oblivious to the fact that Ryan hadn’t looked away once.

Between him and the stage, there was something unspoken...thin, sharp, electric...and no one else seemed to notice.

-------

The business gala had finally wound down. The glittering crowd of guests had drifted out into the night, the chandeliers dimmed, and the stage lights cooled to a soft glow.

Back in the green room, the air felt warmer, more relaxed. Ananya sat cross-legged on the couch, still in her performance dress, counting through the thick stack of cash they’d been handed for the night’s set. The faint echo of applause still seemed to hang in her ears.

Brayn flopped into a chair, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’ll be honest,” he said with a smirk, “I thought rich people were no fun… but damn, they were cheering, singing along, even throwing compliments.”

Ananya chuckled, glancing up from the pile of notes. “Come on, Brayn. They’re human too. If the rich are no fun, then I definitely don’t want to be one.”

That earned a few laughs from the others.

She finished counting, then began sliding neat stacks of bills toward each band member. “Here....your share, your share, your share…”

Lisa snatched hers with both hands, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “Yesss! Now I can finally eat my favorite meal!”

“Let’s go to a five-star hotel tonight!” Lisa added dramatically, raising her hands like she was announcing a world tour.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rocky said from the corner, strumming an idle note on his guitar. “Everyone always talks about fancy food, but this time, we actually made good money. We should celebrate properly. Maybe order the works, maybe get dessert for once...”

No one was listening.

They were too busy tossing ideas back and forth...where to go, what to eat, whether to crash somewhere or keep the night alive. Rocky glanced around, his expression somewhere between offended and amused.

“Seriously? Why is no one listening to me?” he asked, waving a hand. “Come on, this is the biggest payout we’ve had all month!”

Still nothing. Plans for dumplings, pizzas, and midnight coffee drowned out his protests entirely.

Rocky sighed and slumped back. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try.”

A sudden knock at the door cut through their chatter.

The band fell silent, exchanging quick glances.

Dev set down his drink and pushed himself up from the couch. “I’ll get it,” he muttered.

When he opened the door, a tall man in a black suit stood there......one of the event’s guards.

“Yes?” Dev asked.

Before the guard could answer, a couple stepped past him into the room.

Ryan.
And Anna.

The shift in the air was immediate. Everyone in the room stood up, the relaxed post-show mood replaced by polite smiles.

Anna was the first to speak, her tone warm and genuine. “You guys were absolutely fabulous tonight!”

“Thank you,” Ananya replied with a smile, her voice soft but confident. She met Anna’s eyes briefly, unaware of the weight of Ryan’s gaze on her.

Because Ryan… hadn’t looked away from her once.

While Anna chatted, his eyes stayed fixed on Ananya....on the curve of her lips when she smiled, the faint glow in her grey eyes, the way her hair still carried the faintest wave from the stage lights.

Anna, oblivious, continued cheerfully. “I would love for you guys to perform at our wedding.”

The room froze for a heartbeat. A few pairs of eyes went wide.

Brayn was the first to find his voice. “It would be our pleasure,” he said, his usual cocky grin returning.

“When’s the date?” Rose asked quickly, still a little stunned.

“I’ll inform you,” Anna replied with a small smile. “We’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars. I trust you won’t disappoint us.”

The number hit like a shockwave.

One hundred. Thousand. Dollars.

Rocky’s jaw went slack. Lisa clutched her share of tonight’s money like it had suddenly turned to pocket change. Even Ananya blinked in surprise before nodding.

“Of course,” she said. “We won’t disappoint you.”

Everyone agreed in unison, their voices overlapping. And still....Ryan’s gaze never shifted.

---

The car was silent except for the low hum of the engine. Anna shifted in her seat, watching Ryan’s sharp profile in the dim light.

“Ryan?” she called softly.

No response.

“Ryannn,” she tried again, stretching the name, a note of irritation in her voice.

Still nothing. He didn’t even glance at her. His eyes were locked on the dark streets rushing past the window, his jaw tense.

Anna’s smile faded. She leaned back slightly, her voice quieter now. “What happened? Why are you suddenly not talking to me?”

Silence.

She sighed heavily, her chest tightening with frustration. Turning away, she stared out her own window, her lips pressed into a thin line. When the car slowed to a stop outside her apartment, she looked at him one last time... he was still staring out at nothing, not a flicker of acknowledgment.

Her anger flared. Without a word, she shoved the door open, stepped out, and slammed it shut hard enough to echo against the building walls. She didn’t look back as she walked into the lobby.

The driver was about to pull away when Ryan finally spoke, his voice low but commanding.
“Go back to the venue.”

The driver blinked in confusion through the rearview mirror. “Sir?”

“I said..  go back.”

The hesitation lasted only a second before the driver turned the car around. The night outside seemed even darker now, the streetlights flashing past like silent warnings.

When they reached the venue again, Ryan’s eyes scanned the curb. There....Ananya and her bandmates, laughing softly among themselves, waiting for taxis. One by one, the cabs arrived.

Rose got in hers. Brayn and Dev shared another. Lisa and Rocky disappeared into the third.

Only Ananya was left.

When her taxi finally pulled up, she slipped inside, setting her guitar case beside her. The car pulled away.

“Follow that taxi,” Ryan ordered.

The driver’s grip tightened on the wheel, but he didn’t argue. They trailed the cab through winding streets, the city thinning out until only the occasional flicker of neon signs and the glow of passing headlights lit the road.

Then, Ryan leaned forward, his voice colder than the night air.
“Hit that car. As hard as you can.”

The driver’s eyes widened in the mirror. “W-what, sir?”

Ryan’s gaze didn’t waver. “One million dollars. I’ll give you one million if you hit that damn car now.”

The driver swallowed, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. For a moment, he looked like he might refuse.

Then he pressed his foot down.

The engine roared. The gap closed fast. And with a jarring, brutal force....metal met metal.

The sound of the crash ripped through the night.