Chapter 118 Only Shining for Me

Chapter 118 Only Shining for Me

Stephanie's POV

Karon's voice sliced through the faux warmth of the lounge like steel through silk—calm, measured, yet carrying a weight that demanded attention.

Oscar's grin faltered, his expression snapping into something stiff and guilty. He looked like a schoolboy caught whispering secrets in the headmaster's office.

"N-no… nothing," he stammered, his voice dry, the words tripping over themselves. "Just making conversation."

"Is that so?" Karon lifted a brow, the faintest curve of his mouth suggesting he already knew the truth. Then, with effortless precision, he shifted the topic to ground that left no room for escape. "Since you're so curious, perhaps the Turner Pack would like to discuss the Thorn Pack's oil field rights for next quarter?"

The change in Oscar was instant—eyes brightening, posture straightening, the hint of predatory interest replacing his earlier unease.

I could only watch, caught between irritation at his arrogance and grudging admiration for his skill. Three sentences. That was all it took for him to turn idle gossip into a negotiation worth billions.

Classic Karon.

As he passed me on his way out, his stride slowed. His voice dropped low enough that only I could hear.

"The gala. Two nights from now," he murmured. "Wait for my call."

Two nights from now—the Pack Alliance's annual charity gala.

Later, I stood in my walk-in closet, surrounded by rows of gowns so dazzling they seemed to hum under the soft lighting. My fingers hovered over silks and satins, unable to choose.

"What about this one?" Isabelle held up a silver mermaid gown studded with diamonds, pressing it against me. "Your grandfather adored this designer. He had it made for you."

"Too formal," I said, shaking my head.

"Then this black one?" She drew out a velvet backless dress, scandalously elegant. "Your grandmother had it flown in from overseas. It's the latest couture."

"Too… revealing."

I caught my reflection in the mirror. Since my rebirth, I'd worn my armor in the form of tailored suits—sharp lines, controlled elegance. These gowns felt like relics from a life I no longer inhabited.

"Darling," Isabelle set the dress aside and stepped behind me, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. Warmth in her gaze, but steel under it.

"Tonight's gala isn't just charity and champagne," she said, brushing a strand of hair from my shoulder. "It's a battlefield in silk. The Packs will circle each other like predators, and as the future Alpha of the Valerius Pack, every move you make will be dissected."

Her tone sharpened. "Especially with Bennett and Clara. I've heard they've prepared… surprises. Don't walk into their traps."

A cold thread slid down my spine. "I understand, Mother."

The doorbell cut through our conversation. Moments later, Anna appeared, carrying a large velvet box.

"Miss, this just arrived. From David of the Thorn Pack."

Curious, I opened it—and my breath caught.

Inside lay a strapless gown in deep midnight blue. Silver embroidery scattered across the skirt like stardust, as if someone had draped the night sky over my body. At the waist, a single sapphire gleamed—a perfect match to the Moon Goddess crest Karon had once given me.

Beside it, a full set of Moon Goddess jewelry… and a card.

In Karon's bold, unmistakable handwriting: May you shine like the Moon Goddess—yet only in my sight.

Possessive. Arrogant. And maddeningly effective at making my cheeks warm.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Isabelle's knowing smile. "Seems someone knows better than I do how to dress my daughter."

Before I could reply, my phone rang. Chloe's voice exploded through the speaker, her usual volume making me wince.

"Stephanie! You'd better be ready to bring your A-game tonight! Just got insider intel—Bennett's on the guest list! And besides the charity auction, there's going to be a heated debate about the future of the headhunting industry and the Starlight Corp acquisition!"

"Starlight Corp?" I frowned. "That tiny company owned by a no-name Pack?"

"Not so tiny anymore. Several major Packs are circling it. Tonight's going to be a feeding frenzy."

When I hung up, my pulse had already quickened. Tonight would be far more interesting than I'd thought.

At exactly seven, a black Bentley rolled to a stop at the estate gates.

Karon stepped out and opened the door himself.

The moment I approached in the starlit gown, I saw it—the flicker of heat in his ice-gray eyes, like twin flames breaking through frost.

"You look… breathtaking," he said, voice low, almost reverent.

He offered his arm. I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow without hesitation. Even through the fine wool of his suit, I could feel the strength beneath, the quiet heat radiating from him.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice tighter than intended.

We moved toward the car. My heel caught on a stray pebble, and I stumbled. In an instant, his arm locked around me, steadying me with effortless control. His other hand slid to my waist, holding me firmly against him.

For a heartbeat, I was pressed to his chest. His scent—cedar, layered with something darker and intensely male—wrapped around me, making my pulse falter.

"Careful," he said, his breath warm against my ear.

A shiver rippled down my spine, heat blooming where his breath touched.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, forcing myself upright, putting distance between us before I drowned in that dangerous closeness.

There was a glint in his eyes as he released me, as though he'd read my reaction and tucked it away for later.

The Bentley glided down the road, soft music filling the quiet.

"Have you thought about what comes next?" Karon asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your career." He glanced at me. "Do you really intend to spend your life in headhunting?"

"Why not?" I countered. "I find it… interesting."

"And your mate?" His tone was deceptively casual. "What do you expect from your future partner?"

The question carried weight. I studied his profile before letting a slow, playful smile curl my lips.

"Requirements?" I drew the word out. "First, he has to be smarter than me."

"Second, richer than me."

"And last…" I met his gaze, letting mischief spark in my eyes. "He has to be willing to do anything for me."

He chuckled low. "Sounds like there aren't many who meet your standards."

"Exactly," I sighed theatrically. "Which means I'm probably destined to die alone."

"Not necessarily." He turned fully toward me, his gaze locking on mine, the air tightening between us.

"What if," he said, voice deep and smooth as velvet, "someone was willing to do anything for you?"