The top floor of the building glowed with warm golden light in the night, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire city's lights spread out below like scattered stars.

Alana stood at the entrance of the ballroom, taking in this world she had never set foot in before.

Everything was light, champagne, and impeccably dressed men and women.

A live band played deep, elegant jazz, and the air was filled with the scent of flowers and expensive perfume.

Tonight was the annual charity gala, where the city's most powerful figures gathered. Alana wore the deep sapphire blue gown Eve had chosen for her, even Jon, Eve's boyfriend, had stolen extra glances at her in the car.

"The most beautiful woman here," Eve whispered in her ear, her voice bright with excitement. "Do you know the way those men around here are looking at you..."

"Get me something to drink," Alana interrupted. "I just want a glass of wine right now."

Eve laughed and led her directly to the open bar, nodding to Jon.

Understanding immediately, Jon stepped in and ordered champagne for both women.

"Tonight," Jon raised his glass, smiling at Alana, "we drink to celebrate Alana meeting someone who truly deserves her."

"You two..." Alana laughed despite herself, accepting the glass. "You and Eve are exactly alike."

"Of course," Jon said. "I always thought that Cole guy wasn't good enough for you. Now it's clear I was right, complete scum."

Eve nodded emphatically, drained her glass in one go, and immediately refilled it.

After several drinks, Alana felt everything around her soften.

Eve dragged Jon off to dance, winking at Alana before leaving.

"Do what you want, but feel those eyes on you from all directions, I wasn't joking about what I said."

Alana didn't respond, wandering slowly along the edge of the ballroom with her glass.

She did feel those gazes. Multiple sets of eyes were on her, some direct, others subtle. She swept past them all, then looked away, leaving no trace.

She didn't belong here.

This was something Alana knew very clearly. Anyone randomly selected from this crowd probably had a net worth many times her own.

She could stand here tonight only because of Eve's connections, Eve's father had some standing in financial circles and occasionally received these kinds of invitations.

And Alana?

She was just an ordinary girl who had just graduated college and was trying to get a permanent employment position at a mid-sized trading company, wearing a borrowed gown, standing at the edge of this world, watching others move through it effortlessly.

She took another sip of champagne and pushed the thoughts away.

Just then, the band changed to a new piece, the rhythm becoming gentle and flowing.

"Excuse me... may I have this dance?"

The voice came from her right, deep and carrying an effortless magnetism.

Alana turned her head.

The man was nearly a head taller than her, wearing a perfectly tailored dark suit. He had what could only be called a perfect face, deep features, a straight nose, and a sharply defined jawline.

Most striking were his eyes, a deep gray like the color of ocean depths, now focused intently on her.

His black hair was immaculately styled, and the corner of his well-defined mouth curved slightly in a lazy yet self-assured arc.

One hand was casually in his pocket while the other extended toward her, his demeanor carrying an innate aristocratic quality and confidence, as if the possibility of her refusing had never entered his consideration.

Alana stared at him for a second.

This face was too handsome, so handsome she wondered if she was dreaming.

Those gray eyes were deep enough to see through everything, quietly assessing her with a focus she couldn't quite define and something that seemed like... possessiveness?

"Yes," she heard herself say. "Just this one dance."

She placed her hand in his outstretched palm.

His hand was large, slightly callused, and warm. He led her onto the dance floor, his right hand settling at her waist with perfect propriety, not distant, but not overstepping, like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

They began moving with the music.

Alana wasn't an exceptional dancer, but he led steadily, requiring almost no effort on her part to follow, the feeling was strange, as if carried by an invisible force, needing only to relax.

"Do you know many people here?" he asked, his voice falling into her ear.

"Not really," Alana said. "I was dragged here by a friend."

"What a coincidence. So was I," he said.

"And your friend abandoned you here too?"

"Probably thought I didn't need looking after."

Alana couldn't help but smile. "Confident."

"Aren't you the same? Standing alone in the corner, three glasses of champagne, looking like you neither need company nor care to acknowledge anyone."

She looked up at him with some surprise. This close, she could clearly see the curve of his lashes and the dangerous glint in those gray eyes. "You've been watching me?"

"For a while now," he said matter-of-factly, without a hint of embarrassment. "You're different."

Alana didn't respond to that, shifting her gaze to the illuminated center of the dance floor in the distance.

Different.

She knew he was probably just making conversation, such words were worthless in settings like this. But somehow, the champagne's effect was creeping up on her, making those words linger in her ears for an extra second.

And coming from this man's mouth, the words seemed to carry an undeniable sincerity.

The music continued, and they moved with the rhythm toward the edge of the ballroom, where the lights grew dimmer and the surrounding voices more distant.

Alana didn't realize they had reached a semi-open corridor entrance until the marble floor beneath her feet changed to slightly cool tiles, and the surroundings suddenly grew quiet.

"How did we end up here," she said reflexively.

"We can go back if you'd like."

Alana turned to look at him. The night breeze from the corridor stirred the few strands of hair falling across her shoulders.

He stood before her, that impossibly perfect face even more defined in the moonlight, his gray eyes looking directly at her with no unnecessary expression, only something quiet and certain.

She didn't know what that something was.

She only knew that tonight she'd had too much champagne, Cole was getting married, Sophia had personally called to invite her, and she was standing in one of the world's most exclusive ballrooms, wearing a gown she'd never worn before, being looked at this way by a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine.

And she was fully aware of what was about to happen, yet felt no resistance whatsoever.

After all, it was only tonight. After today, they would never see each other again.

So what was the harm?

Alana took a deep breath, looked up, and deliberately stepped half a step closer to him.

"And what do you want to do?"

He didn't answer immediately. He lowered his head, those gray eyes studying her face, lingering there for a moment before he spoke softly.

"May I?"

Alana knew what he was asking.

She considered for about three seconds, looking at that captivating face, then nodded.

His hand slowly curved around her waist as he leaned down, and his lips descended.

The kiss began gently, light as a question, then she felt him tighten his arms slightly, and the kiss gradually deepened until she forgot she should step back, forgot she should maintain distance, forgot why she was standing here tonight at all.

Much later, he lifted his head, looking at her slightly flushed face.

That perfect face now also bore traces of desire, making him seem more like a real person rather than some ethereal sculpture.

Then he bent down and swept her up into his arms.

Alana couldn't react in time, only feeling the scenery suddenly shift angles. She instinctively gripped his shoulders, able to see his profile even more clearly from this angle, perfect enough to inspire jealousy.

"You..."

"We're going upstairs," he said, his tone calm as if discussing something already agreed upon. "I have a suite here."

Alana watched him walk toward the elevator at the far end of the hall, watched him press the up button with one hand, feeling the strength of his arms supporting her back, steady, reliable, carrying a warmth she couldn't quite define.

The elevator doors slowly opened.

She didn't say no.

He turned his head to look down at her, something deep and hidden flickering in those gray eyes, part surprise, part confidence.

He said softly, "I knew it."

The unfinished implication carried all the confidence of a man who had anticipated her response-I knew you wouldn't refuse.

And Alana found herself utterly captivated by those words, unable to voice any refusal.

Then the elevator doors closed behind them, shutting out that brilliantly lit world on the other side.

Alana was awakened by the phone ringing.

She groggily opened her eyes to find daylight already streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting pale light across sheets that didn't belong to her.

She stared blankly for a moment or two, then slowly sat up and looked to the side, the space beside her was empty, with only an indentation left on the pillow. The man was already gone.

Gone was gone.

It had only been one night anyway, she knew that much.

Alana looked down at herself, pulling the sheet higher. Memories from last night floated back bit by bit, and her cheeks unconsciously warmed.

That man... he had been good. It was her first time doing this with anyone, and she had expected it to be more difficult, but that goodness had been more thorough and real than she'd imagined.

Even now, her body still held some lingering warmth.

She pressed her lips together and pushed the thought away.

The phone was still ringing.

She fumbled for her phone from beside the pillow, saw Eve's name on the screen, and answered.

"Hello, where did you go last night!" Eve's voice burst from the phone. "I looked for you for half an hour!"

"I was upstairs," Alana said.

"Up..."Eve paused. "Wait, when you say upstairs, you mean..."

"Mm."

Brief silence. Then Eve let out a sharp cry, immediately followed by Alana clearly hearing her trying to keep her voice down.

"Tell me everything! Which one? The one you danced with?!"

"You saw?"

"Of course I saw! I was watching you the whole time!" Eve lowered her voice but spoke faster and faster. "He was so tall, kept staring at you, then you both disappeared together, Alana, you didn't say a word to me last night!"

"You and Jon were having such a good time dancing," Alana said, her tone calm, even a bit nonchalant. "I didn't need to interrupt you."

"Interrupt!" Eve repeated the word as if choking on it. "As your best friend, I have the right to know every detail about you spending the night with a stranger."

"Fine," Alana said. "Then I'll tell you."

And she did tell her.

Quite frankly, whatever Eve asked, she answered, including the man's attitude throughout, her first-time experience, and her honest assessment of the entire night.

Eve alternately exclaimed, fell silent, and repeated the last few words of certain sentences on the other end, clearly listening with utmost attention.

When Alana finished, Eve was quiet for nearly five seconds.

Then she said, "Congratulations, but... Did you use protection?"

Alana's expression froze.

She thought about it, thought some more, then thought again.

"...No."

"Alana." Eve's voice suddenly became very serious. "Listen to me carefully. Right now, immediately, take a cab to the pharmacy. Buy emergency contraception and HIV post-exposure prophylaxis. The prophylaxis must be taken within seventy-two hours. How many hours has it been since last night..."

"About... eight or nine hours?"

"There's still time! Go now!"

Alana quickly threw off the sheets and began looking for her clothes.

Her gown was folded neatly over the chair back, surprisingly tidy, placed there by the man.

She stared for a moment, then quickly got dressed.

"I'm leaving now," she said, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Eve, he didn't leave any contact information, nothing at all, just disappeared like that. Is this..."

"Completely normal," Eve said, her tone returning to its usual certainty. "You didn't know each other's identities anyway. It's better that he left first, saves you both the awkwardness of staring at each other. But anyway, once you handle this, everything will be fine. Don't overthink it. Consider it an experience. Was last night's man worth it?"

"Worth it," Alana said, a slight smile in her voice. "If today were just about him, I wouldn't have any regrets."

"Then that's enough. Now go!"

Alana grabbed her purse, put on her shoes, and took one last look at the still somewhat disheveled bed.

She didn't notice the folded piece of white paper on the nightstand.

The paper was small, folded casually, tucked beside the lamp base, sitting quietly in the morning light with no one to see it.

Alana turned and left.

Monday, Alana came down with something.

She thought she was just tired, but when she woke up, she was running a fever, her forehead burning hot, and her back and waist aching terribly.

She struggled to get up and looked at herself in the mirror-listless, pale, heavy eyelids.

She called in sick, took fever medication, and lay back down, trying to attribute it all to weekend exhaustion and lack of sleep.

But by afternoon, the fever hadn't completely broken, and she began anxiously recalling something else.

That man, she knew nothing about him. She didn't know his name, what he did, whether he had any health issues.

Once this thought emerged, it wouldn't go away.

She picked up her phone and called Eve.

"Is it possible you... caught something?" Eve's voice on the other end was unusually gentle.

"I don't know," Alana said. "But I have a fever, and I can't stop thinking in that direction."

"Then go to the hospital," Eve said, her tone concise and firm. "If you don't go, you'll drive yourself crazy thinking about it. Get checked, if there's nothing wrong, you can relax; if there is something, early detection means early treatment. Either way, you'll only get answers by going."

Alana was quiet for a while, then nodded.

"Okay, I'll go."

She changed clothes, hailed a taxi, gave the driver the destination, then leaned against the car window, staring blankly at the streets outside.

She went through the details of that night over and over in her mind. The man's condition, his words and behavior, his... overall, he hadn't seemed like someone with a chaotic lifestyle, but what did such judgment prove? Nothing at all.

She sighed, pushed those thoughts to a corner of her mind, and tried to stay calm.

The hospital waiting area wasn't too crowded. Alana took a number and sat in a chair for about twenty minutes until the announcement system chimed.

Only then did she stand up and walk toward the examination room.

She pushed open the door to the examination room.

Initially, she didn't immediately see anyone, there was a white curtain in the room, swaying gently in the air conditioning breeze, dividing the room in half.

"Doctor?" Alana asked softly.

There was movement behind the curtain.

Then the curtain was pulled open from inside, and a tall figure emerged, turned around, and looked at her.

Alana's brain stopped for nearly two seconds.

She stared at the face before her, that jawline, those features, those eyes, deep, profound, now looking at her with the same calm expression, like a mirror reflecting her current unguarded astonishment.

Only one thought remained in her mind, rolling back and forth, growing louder:

Oh God!

Weren't they supposed to never see each other again?!