CHAPTER 268: CHAPTER 268: PARTY AND SHAMELESS GODS.

The entrance flared.

Connor arrived like he owned the goddamn floor.

The marble didn’t catch his footsteps so much as approve of them, midnight shoes on ash-white stone, his dark green suit cutting through the ballroom like pine through frost. There was no announcement, no formal introduction, just the slow sweep of his stride as the press of guests parted instinctively.

Green eyes sharp, a grin lazy, and a posture loose enough to suggest amusement and dangerous enough to suggest he could cause a scandal just for sport, Connor Woods paused at the threshold with one hand tucked casually in his pocket and the other flicking a crimson handkerchief once before stuffing it back.

"I’m late," he said to no one in particular, "but beautiful enough to be forgiven."

And behind him, silent as a thought, smooth as distilled calm, Uno stepped into view.

He wore pale grey with a high Mandarin collar, subtle silver embroidery rippling across the trim like algorithms whispering in silk. His blond hair was combed neatly back, and his blue eyes were serene but piercing. Where Connor was kinetic, Uno was stillness incarnate. Like the world had been waiting for him to arrive before it could recalibrate.

Ruo straightened immediately, her glass tilting with interest. "Well, well. Look who crawled out of myth and mystery."

Connor grinned wider. "You missed me."

"I did not," she said. "But your suit’s good enough to tolerate."

Uno offered a polite nod, gaze drifting from Victor to Elias. He didn’t smile, but somehow it still felt like one.

"Victor," he said softly. "Congratulations. You, Elias... this is overdue."

Victor inclined his head. "Uno."

Elias studied him. "So Connor gave you another chance in the end."

Uno smiled and that was never a good sign. "I guess I’m indebted to you now."

Elias didn’t flinch. "You already were."

That earned him a breath of a smile, quieter than before, but warmer too.

Connor glanced between them and gave a dramatic sigh, but there was no real bite in it. Just the usual flair. "You see what I deal with?" he muttered toward Victor. "You pick difficult people on purpose."

Victor’s response was barely a breath. "So do you."

Connor smirked. "Touché."

Uno didn’t comment, but he did step closer, the lines of formality in his posture giving way to something more natural, familiar. He reached for a glass from the tray near the arch and passed it, without looking, to Connor. Their hands brushed in the exchange. Neither of them flinched.

Ruo narrowed her eyes. "Wait, are you two..."

"Made up?" Connor said lazily, green eyes glinting in the low light. "Weeks ago."

"Why wasn’t I informed?" She asked, faking an outrageous expression.

"Because you talk too much," he said sweetly. "And we weren’t accepting outside commentary."

Uno raised his glass. "Or audience votes."

Ruo rolled her eyes but smiled around the rim of her drink.

Victor glanced once at Connor, the smallest of nods passing between them. Friends in the sharpest, cleanest sense of the word.

"I hope you’re behaving tonight," Victor said quietly.

Connor gave an exaggerated bow. "Always, boss." Then, with a wink to Elias, "Some of us even clean up for important occasions."

Elias arched a brow. "And some of us drag half the marketing department into chaos on a Tuesday."

"That happened one time."

"Three."

Uno made a soft sound, almost a laugh. "Don’t argue in public."

"We’re not arguing," Connor said. "We’re establishing dominance."

"Are you winning?"

"I always do."

Elias snorted. "You’re lucky I let you wear that suit."

"Correction," Connor said, taking Uno’s hand as casually as anything, their fingers sliding into place like they belonged there. "You’re lucky I showed up at all."

And this time, when Uno looked at him, it wasn’t polite or political. It was simple. Grounded. Like he’d been showing up quietly for a while now.

Elias noticed. Of course he did.

Ruo gave an overly dramatic sigh and took another sip of champagne. "I preferred you two when there was dramatic tension."

Connor grinned but didn’t let go of Uno’s hand. "Too late. We’re boring now. Stable. Executively domestic."

Elias’s brows lifted. "Please don’t say that again."

Victor, with impeccable timing, handed Elias a fresh drink before he could respond further.

And across the ballroom, the orchestra swelled, the gala rhythm shifting, and the tempo nudging toward a formal announcement.

Uno leaned slightly toward Elias, voice pitched just for him. "Thank you. For earlier."

Elias gave a small nod. "Don’t make me regret it."

"I won’t."

Behind them, Connor was already explaining to Ruo why Uno’s suit deserved an award for restraint and tailoring.

And for the first time that evening, the atmosphere began to ease.

Elias let the edge of his glass rest against his bottom lip for a moment, eyes fixed on the chandelier above like it might unhinge and fall dramatically enough to end the evening.

Victor noticed. Of course he did.

"You’re thinking something," he said, far too pleased with himself.

"I want to run," Elias muttered. "Out the side door, through the hedge, straight into traffic."

Victor sipped his champagne like that was the most romantic thing he’d ever heard. "Need help?"

Elias blinked at him. "You’d abandon your own gala?"

"I’d abandon the entire stock market if you asked nicely."

Elias narrowed his eyes. "That’s not a compliment, Victor."

Victor leaned in, eyes dark and gleaming with mischief. "You’re glowing. Radiant. Publicly mine. Of course I’d chase you through hedges."

"I was being metaphorical."

"I wasn’t," Victor said, absolutely shameless. "You keep looking at the balcony like it’s a viable exit. I could have the car ready in thirty seconds."

"We are one hour away from home," Elias reminded him flatly.

Victor barely blinked. "I can make Ashwin bring the helicopter."

Elias turned to stare at him, slow and disbelieving. "You’re joking."

"Teleportation would be faster," Victor said, as if discussing a grocery list, "but it might affect the child. The helicopter is safer. And more dramatic."

Elias made a choked noise. "You want to extract your pregnant fiancé from a gala via helicopter."

Victor nodded, dead serious. "If you’re going to run away from responsibility, it should at least have good lighting."

"I’m not running from responsibility," Elias snapped. "I’m running from press interviews, your father, and three hundred people trying to guess the gender of a child that doesn’t even have a nursery yet."

Victor tilted his head, thoughtful. "Would you feel better if I pushed someone down the stairs?"

"No!"

"A light shove. Symbolic. I can make it look accidental."

Elias covered his face with one hand. "I hate it here."

Victor leaned in, voice low and utterly pleased with himself. "Then let me ruin it for you."

"That’s not comforting."

"Then let me ruin it with you."

Elias exhaled like it physically pained him to be loved by this man. "You’re going to be a terrible father."

"I’m going to be the most dramatic father."

"That’s not better."

Victor’s grin was smug and victorious. "You knew what I was when I marked you."

Elias, eyes closed, finally whispered, "I should’ve run when I had the chance."

Victor brushed a hand along the curve of his back, shamelessly indulgent. "You knew you had no chance."

And the worst part?

He had.