Irvin's POV
I settled into the limousine's plush leather seat, the cool material pressing against my palm as my fingers drummed an anxious rhythm. My cufflinks caught my attention again—the third adjustment in ten minutes, a tell-tale sign of nerves I hadn't experienced since my university years.
Asking Davina to accompany me to the unicorn party had felt like pure genius at the time—a sweeping romantic gesture to demonstrate just how deeply she'd captured my heart.
Now, with the event bearing down on me, uncertainty gnawed at my confidence. This wasn't some casual get-together. The unicorn party represented the pinnacle of extravagance, drawing the most elite members of high society.
Our photos would flood every gossip rag, become fodder for social columns, and face ruthless examination from every power player in the city.
