Page 94 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

Grayson exhales, considering. “We host an event.”

I blink. “A launch event?”

He nods. “A global unveiling forPerfectly Matched’sexpansion. High-profile. Exclusive. Invite only the most influential people in business, media, and politics. We take control of the narrative by making itoursbefore Cassian can twist it further.”

Olivia nods approvingly. “That could work. But it has to bebig, something that overshadows anything Cassian’s done.”

I straighten, my pulse quickening. “Then let’s make it agala.”

Grayson raises a brow. “A gala?”

I lean forward, already forming the vision in my head. “Not just any gala, theelite social event of the year. A black-tie evening to introducePerfectly Matched’sexpansion to the world. We’ll showcase the new locations, highlight our most successful matches, and, most importantly, we control the media coverage.”

Grayson’s smirk grows. “I like it.”

Olivia taps her tablet. “Then I’ll start planning. We’ll need a venue, security, guest list approvals, and…”

I cut in, already knowing the perfect place. “The Grand Royale in Paris.”

Grayson glances at me, intrigued. “That’s ambitious.”

I nod. “Exactly.”

Across the city,in one of New York’s most exclusive rooftop lounges, Cassian Laurent sits with a whiskey in hand, watching the skyline. The private lounge is lit with soft golden lighting, the hum of low jazz music mixing with the distant murmur of conversation. Isabella Monroe sits across from him, her usual flawless poise slightly unraveled.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she says, swirling the dark red wine in her glass.

Cassian smirks, but there’s something unreadable in his gaze. “Enjoyingwhat, exactly?”

She exhales sharply. “Stirring things up. Pissing off Margot and Grayson. Making yourself the center of attention.”

Cassian leans back, stretching out like heownsthe city skyline behind him. “I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Isabella scoffs, setting her glass down a little too forcefully. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

He tilts his head. “Why do youcare?”

She stiffens. “I don’t.”

He studies her carefully. “Liar.” Silence stretches between them, thick with somethingunsaid.

Finally, Isabella looks away. “Just… don’t get yourselfdestroyedin the process, Laurent.”

Cassian’s smirk fades for just a second.

Then, just as quickly, it’s back.

“Noted,” he murmurs.

But even as he raises his glass for another sip, something shifts in his eyes, because for the first time, he wonders if she’s right.

62

GRAYSON

Over the next two weeks, the preparations for thePerfectly MatchedGala take on a life of their own. The Grand Royale is booked, a sprawling, historic ballroom in the heart of Paris, dripping with old-world luxury. Massive crystal chandeliers. Gilded archways. Floor-to-ceiling windows that open onto private terraces overlooking the Seine. The guest list is exclusive, CEOs, royalty, Hollywood elite, and international power players. Olivia has a team screening every invite to make sureonly the bestare in attendance. Margot oversees the design, the florals, the lighting, the seating arrangements, making sureeverythingis perfect. Every detail meticulously planned, from the candlelit ambiance to the curated menu featuring Michelin-starred chefs.

I handle security and logistics, ensuring privacy is airtight. The media will be present, but onlyselectedoutlets. Every image, every article, will becuratedto showcaseourvision.

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