The flashes were relentless and blinding.
As the questions flew, Ethan shifted instinctively to shield Priya. For a split second, she felt it all. The scrutiny, the speculation, the razor-sharp assessment.
What the hell is she wearing?
What is she even doing here?
What does he see in her?
She knew whattheysaw. Frizzy hair. No makeup. A sweatshirt two sizes too big. Pajama pants. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Which, in fact, was true.
And yet, somehow, she felt like she was exactly where she belonged. Standing beside Ethan. On the red carpet. Just like they had planned. It was as if this moment had been cast in the stars. She was meant to be here. Maybe not in the way the world expected. Maybe not in the way she expected either. But she wasn’t about to let anyone—reporters, critics, internet trolls—diminish her. Let them talk. About her clothes, her failures, her background. Let them post photos of her mismatched pajamas. Let them call her undeserving.
Priya nudged her glasses up the bridge of her nose, squared her shoulders, and sent Ethan a sideways glance.I’ve got this.
Ethan’s eyes lingered on her, his lips curving into a smile. He gave a small nod, a silent acknowledgment. Then, as if coming to a decision, he tucked Sir Puffington back inside the tote and reached for her hand, their fingers lacing together like they had never forgotten the way.
“Want to get out of here?” he asked.
“Can we?” Priya asked back, blinking in surprise. “I thought you had an after-party.”
“Forget the after-party. I’m more interested in an exclusive event starring you and me.” Ethan turned toward Sienna and lifted two fingers in a quick, almost lazy salute. Sienna’s lips pressed together in the briefest flicker of irritation before she caught herself. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she turned back to the cameras with a megawatt smile. She wasn’t about to let anyone steal her moment.
Priya glanced between them, a pang of doubt hitting her. “I hope I didn’t—”
“You didn’t.” Ethan laughed under his breath. “Sienna’s not my date. We were never a thing.” He led them off the carpet and then pulled out his phone to send a message. Within seconds, a luxury sedan rolled to the curb.
Priya raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m impressed.”
“What can I say? I like to make quick exits.” Ethan grinned. “Coming?”
Priya slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. This was her moment, and more importantly, this was her man. And she was claiming him before the world.
As the driver held the door open, the press surged forward, a whirlwind of questions, cameras, and eager eyes pressing in from all sides.
“Can we get a statement about your relationship?”
“Are we going to see you later tonight?”
“Was there any truth to the two of you being just friends?”
Security closed in, forming a barrier as Ethan helped Priya into the car, setting Sir Puffington’s tote beside her. Before slipping in after her, he turned and gave the crowd a final wave, only adding fuel to the frenzy.
The moment the doors shut, muting the deafening noise outside, Priya let out a long breath. Sir Puffington curled into a ball and let out a tiny purr. Ethan turned to Priya, his eyes narrowing. Then, without warning, he swept her hair to one side and looked behind her ear.
“What are you doing?” Priya asked.
“Checking to see if your beauty mark is still there,” he said, his thumb brushing over the familiar spot. “Because the Priya I knew couldn’t even tell her own parents about us. She would’ve been halfway across the city before letting herself be caught in a media storm like that.” His lips quirked in a teasing smile. “Priya2.0 seems to have had a major upgrade.”
Priya shrugged playfully. “It took a while to rewrite the code, but all the bugs are fixed. Stronger firewall. New security patches. No more crash reports.”
“And what about compatibility?” Ethan grinned. “Still runs with Knight OS?”
“Exclusively with Knight OS.”
“Good to know,” Ethan murmured, leaning in. Before he could kiss her, the driver’s voice cut in over the partition.
“Where to, Mr. Knight?”
