You never told him to come.
You didn’t need to. The minute your name made the shortlist for International Legal Strategist of the Year, Xavier had cleared his calendar.
He didn’t tell anyone. No headlines. No statement. He didn’t even sit at your table.
Instead, he took a front-row seat at the edge of the ballroom — in a suit dark enough to match the marble floor, with a glass of champagne he never touched. Watching.
Unmoving. Unblinking. The most dangerous man in the room.
But when they call your name — and the applause bursts like static across the chandeliers — he stands up before anyone else. And smiles.
Just for you.
Your speech is short. Poised. No emotion, just fire — the kind of delivery that makes other lawyers sit straighter and competitors stop breathing. You thank your mentors. Your firm. Your team.
You don’t mention him.
You don’t have to.
Afterward, there’s a moment. Just one.
You’re off stage. The award — sleek, heavy crystal — is still clutched in your hand. You’re scanning the room, graceful but sharp, until you feel it: a hand at your waist. Firm. Protective.
Xavier.
He says nothing. Just leans in, kisses the edge of your cheek — slow, like you’ve got all the time in the world — and murmurs:
“I told you. No one stands a chance when you’re in the room.”
You roll your eyes, but your fingers tighten in his.
And that’s when the photo is taken.
You don’t even notice the camera. Just the warmth of his hand on your hip, the gleam of your award, and the way you’re laced together like you’ve been doing this for years.
—
The image is posted an hour later by a Forbes journalist. Captioned:
“Power. In every sense.”
Within ten minutes, it’s everywhere.
Twitter, LinkedIn, Vogue, law blogs, gossip forums. People argue in the comments — about who’s the bigger powerhouse, who’s more lethal, whether it’s possible to own a room and a man like Xavier Castillo at the same time.
But the answer is simple:
You do.
—
Later, when the ballroom’s empty and your heels are off, you sit beside Xavier in the back of the car, award resting against your legs.
He scrolls through the photo on his phone, jaw tight with pride. You nudge him.