Setting: The Aurelian Grand Gala. The theme is "Masquerade Midnight."
Visuals: Every student is in designer formal wear. Jaxon is in a midnight-blue tuxedo, looking for the girl who has been haunting his thoughts.
"Where is she?" Chloe hissed, adjusting her $100,000 diamond necklace. "The scholarship brat probably couldn't even afford a mask from the dollar store."
Jaxon didn't answer. He was staring at the grand staircase.
The music suddenly shifted. The heavy orchestral violins transitioned into a sleek, dangerous cello melody. The doors at the top of the stairs swung open.
A woman stepped out. She wasn't wearing a hoodie.
She wore a floor-length, silk emerald-green gown that clung to her curves like a second skin, with a slit up the side that revealed her toned, athletic legs. Her hair, usually hidden, was swept up in an elegant, messy bun. But it was the mask that stopped everyone's breath—a custom-made, matte black filigree mask that covered the top half of her face.
She didn't look like a student. She looked like a predator who owned the room.
"Who is that?" a senator whispered.
"She has the aura of a Queen," a tech mogul muttered.
Yuna descended the stairs with the grace of a panther. She walked straight past the VIPs, straight past the stunned Chloe, and stopped in front of Jaxon.
Jaxon's glass of champagne nearly slipped from his hand. Up close, he could see the spark in her eyes—the same steel he saw behind the glasses, but now it was burning with a different fire.
"You're late," Jaxon managed to say, his voice husky.
"A strategist always arrives exactly when the enemy is most vulnerable," Yuna whispered, leaning into his ear. "By the way, Jaxon... that 'Golden Key' you're holding? It's a tracker. Your father's rivals are listening to every word you say."
Jaxon stiffened, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "Then let's give them something worth listening to."