Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 91: The Grand Gala

Chapter 91: The Grand Gala

The moment Ava stepped into the grand ballroom, she felt every pair of eyes on her.

Gold chandeliers cast a warm glow over the glittering crowd, the soft murmur of conversation mixing with the gentle strains of a violin ensemble. L’Amour Élite had spared no expense—ornate floral arrangements lined the room, champagne flowed endlessly, and the air was thick with wealth, power, and calculated charm.

But Ava wasn’t thinking about the grandeur.

She was thinking about him.

Ryan stood a few feet away, looking far too good in a tailored black tuxedo, his tie just slightly loosened—like he couldn’t be bothered to follow the rules completely.

But that wasn’t what made her breath hitch.

It was the way he was looking at her.

Like she was the only woman in the room.

Like she was his.

A slow, appreciative smirk spread across his lips as his gaze traveled over her. "Wow."

Ava arched a brow. "Wow, what?"

Ryan took a step closer, lowering his voice. "I was going to say you look incredible, but that doesn’t quite cover it."

Ava bit back a smile. "Are you trying to charm me, Kim?"

Ryan leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "No. I already have you."

Her heart stuttered.

Before she could respond, a very unfortunate interruption happened.

Julian Ashcroft.

With his usual smug air of superiority, he bumped into Ava—spilling an entire glass of champagne down the front of his own immaculate suit.

Silence.

Then—

Ryan snorted. Loudly.

Ava pressed her lips together, trying (and failing) to look apologetic. "Oh, Julian, I’m so sorry. Clumsy me."

Julian’s icy glare could have frozen the entire Seine. "You did that on purpose."

Ava tilted her head innocently. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Ryan chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Best sabotage yet, Matchmaker."

Julian huffed, turning on his heel, clearly fuming as he stormed off to find a new suit.

Ryan looked down at Ava, amusement still twinkling in his eyes. "You definitely did that on purpose."

Ava grinned. "Maybe a little."

Ryan smirked. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Ava rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, the music shifted—a waltz, elegant and slow.

Ryan’s fingers tightened around her waist. "Dance with me."

Ava blinked. "What?"

Ryan tugged her toward the dance floor, spinning her into his arms before she could protest.

And just like that—

The world faded away.

---

Ava had danced before.

But never like this.

Ryan’s hands rested low on her waist, firm yet warm. He guided her effortlessly, his movements smooth and confident, like he had been waiting for this moment.

Like he already knew she belonged there.

The golden light flickered against his sharp features, and when he looked down at her, Ava felt it in every inch of her body.

Something dangerous.

Something undeniable.

He wasn’t just playing anymore.

This was real.

Ryan’s voice was low, teasing. "You’re actually letting me lead for once."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Don’t get used to it."

Ryan chuckled, pulling her just a little closer.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

They just moved.

Ryan’s thumb brushed lightly against her back. His breath ghosted over her cheek.

Ava inhaled slowly, grounding herself in the scent of his cologne, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips.

She had been running from this. From him.

But tonight, in his arms, under the golden chandeliers of Paris—

She let herself fall.

Ryan’s grip tightened, his lips inches from hers.

Then—

He murmured against her skin, soft but certain.

"You’re mine, right?"

Ava’s breath hitched.

Her pulse thundered.

No teasing. No smirking. Just truth.

Ava swallowed, her fingers curling into his suit jacket.

She didn’t want to fight it anymore.

"Always," she whispered.

Ryan exhaled sharply.

And then—

He kissed her.

Slow. Deep. Unrushed.

Like he had already made up his mind—

That he was never letting her go.

Ava melted into him, her hands sliding up to cradle his face, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Ryan groaned softly, pressing her closer, deepening the kiss until she was breathless.

When they finally pulled apart, Ryan rested his forehead against hers, chuckling. "You’re going to be the death of me."

Ava smirked. "You love it."

Ryan grinned. "Yeah. I really do."

---

Hours later, after too much champagne and far too many whispered compliments from Ryan, Ava found herself standing on their private rooftop terrace, overlooking the twinkling lights of Paris.

She wrapped her arms around herself, taking a deep breath.

Then, she felt him.

Ryan.

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against his chest.

Ava exhaled, leaning back into his warmth.

Ryan pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, murmuring, "Still overthinking?"

Ava sighed. "I don’t want to lose this."

Ryan turned her around, cupping her face. "You won’t."

Ava searched his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

Ryan smirked. "Because I’m standing here, completely in love with you. And trust me, I was a lost cause before you."

Ava laughed, rolling her eyes. "Flirt."

Ryan tilted her chin up, his voice softer now. "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Ava."

Her breath caught.

Ryan leaned in, brushing his lips over hers—just once. Soft. Certain. A promise.

Then he pulled back, murmuring against her lips.

"You’re mine, and I’m yours. No matter what happens."

Ava swallowed past the lump in her throat, her fingers curling into his shirt.

This was it.

She wasn’t running anymore.

She nodded. "Okay."

Ryan smiled, pressing another lazy kiss to her lips.

And under the Parisian stars, Ava finally let herself believe it.

She was his.

And he was hers.

No matter what came next.

---

The rooftop terrace was bathed in soft golden hues, the city stretching beneath them like a sea of twinkling lights. The air carried the faint scent of jasmine from the apartment’s garden below, mingling with the distant aroma of fresh bread wafting from the boulangerie down the street.

For once, Mei was nowhere in sight.

No chaotic interruptions. No dramatic speeches. Just them.

Ava sighed, resting her arms on the stone railing, her fingers tracing the cool surface absently. Ryan stood beside her, close enough that his warmth radiated through the crisp night air.

For the first time in what felt like forever—it was quiet.

And that silence held a certain kind of magic.

Ryan finally broke it, his voice softer than usual. "You okay?"

Ava let out a breath, tilting her head to look at him. "Yeah."

Ryan arched a brow, clearly not convinced.

Ava rolled her eyes, smiling. "I mean it."

Ryan smirked, his gaze flickering over her face as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, with that easy confidence, he gently pulled her against him.

Ava exhaled, melting into him without hesitation.

Ryan’s arms wrapped securely around her waist, his chin resting lightly against her temple. "No Mei lurking in the shadows. No Julian plotting world domination. Just you and me. This feels... different."

Ava chuckled. "It does."

She glanced around as if expecting Mei to suddenly burst onto the rooftop with a bottle of champagne and a long-winded speech about destiny. But for once... nothing.

Ryan hummed in amusement. "I think she knows."

Ava frowned. "Knows what?"

Ryan’s lips brushed against her hair. "That we need this moment. That I need this moment with you."

Ava’s stomach flipped.

She turned slightly in his arms, looking up at him. The rooftop lights reflected in his dark eyes, making them gleam like the midnight sky.

Ryan smiled lazily. "Surprised I can be serious?"

Ava smirked. "A little."

Ryan chuckled, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against the small of her back.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The night stretched around them, unrushed.

Ryan exhaled, his voice lower now. "You know, I spent years convincing myself I didn’t need this. That relationships were just... complications."

Ava tilted her head. "And now?"

Ryan’s grip tightened ever so slightly. "Now, I can’t imagine waking up without you."

Ava’s breath hitched.

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure Ryan could hear it.

Because this? This was something real.

Ava swallowed, her fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket. "Ryan..."

Ryan leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. "Hmm?"

Ava hesitated.

She had spent so much time dodging these feelings, pushing them away, trying to convince herself that nothing had to change.

But here? In this moment? She knew.

Knew that he was hers.

Knew that she was his.

So, instead of overthinking, instead of running—

She let herself fall.

Ava lifted a hand, cupping his face. "I love you."

Ryan froze.

Ava didn’t blink. Didn’t look away.

She just let the words settle between them.

Ryan exhaled sharply, something shifting in his expression—something that looked a lot like pure, unfiltered happiness.

Then—

He kissed her.

Slow. Deep. Certain.

Like he had been waiting for this exact moment his entire life.

Ava sighed into him, her hands slipping into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

Ryan groaned softly against her lips, his arms locking around her completely.

This wasn’t playful.

It wasn’t teasing.

It was a promise.

When they finally broke apart, Ryan didn’t let go.

Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath uneven.

Then, he murmured, low and rough—

"Say it again."

Ava smiled, her fingers brushing against his jaw. "I love you."

Ryan exhaled slowly, like he was memorizing the way it sounded.

Then—

"I love you too."

Ava felt something in her chest tighten, something so big she didn’t know how to contain it.

Ryan’s hands slid up to cup her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "Say it one more time, just to be sure."

Ava laughed, nudging his nose with hers. "You’re impossible."

Ryan grinned. "And yet, here you are. Stuck with me."

Ava smirked. "You love it."

Ryan chuckled, kissing her again.

This time, it was soft. Slow. Endless.

And as the city lights glowed beneath them, as the night stretched long and golden, Ava realized—

This was it.

No more running.

No more doubts.

Just them.

Paris had given them everything they didn’t know they needed.

And now—

They weren’t letting it go.

Not for anything.

Not for anyone.