Bella felt a strange wave of déjà vu as she stepped into the grand hall with Leo's hand resting firmly on her lower back. The chandeliers above glittered like falling stars, casting their golden glow across the crowd of well-dressed elites. Every corner was touched by wealth—buffet tables lined with silver trays, champagne towers gleaming, walls adorned with subtle yet expensive old-money décor.
She smiled faintly, her lips pulled into the polite mask she had practiced, greeting people who bowed or shook hands with Leo. Their voices blurred into each other, names and titles rolling off like meaningless sounds. She had seen many of them before—at the auction, at the meeting event but tonight it felt heavier, as though every gaze was sharper, every whisper louder.
Her steps faltered when her eyes landed on a familiar figure.
