Despite the thunderstorm raging outside, the atmosphere of the party was lively and rich. At least fifty guests filled the hall, not counting the staff, and the three masked girls enjoyed the festive mood.

  "Ahhhh, food!" Yuna shouted, spotting the buffet table with its perfectly arranged dishes. "Nasai, make the most of this; we don’t get this every day," she warned her sister, moving toward the buffet.

  "Yuna!" Nasai called, watching her older sister walk away.

  "I'm off to fish; let’s see if I can catch myself a wealthy one," Carol announced, also drifting away from the young woman.

  "Carol!" Nasai called after her, finding herself alone in the middle of the bustling ballroom.

  The grand table in the corner didn’t just match the elegance of the decor but was also brimming with countless dishes of every kind; foods from all tastes, colors, and countries were there—a dream come true for Yuna. She, unlike her petite frame suggested, had a true love for food and flavors.

  With every step closer to the buffet, Yuna's expression grew more blissful. As she finally reached the table, she grabbed a plate and began to serve herself with unrestrained joy, momentarily losing her composure and any trace of ladylike demeanor.

  “I thought the masculinity I sensed in you was just an outward thing,” a voice behind her said just as she was about to bring a spoonful of Russian salad to her mouth. Her heart skipped a beat; she recognized that masculine voice.

  “What are you doing here?!” she asked, turning to confirm her suspicion.

  “Let’s just say I know the host,” Vincent replied, stepping closer to Yuna.

  “You’ve said hello. Goodbye,” she responded, looking away from him and resuming her food.

  “Are you always this prickly?”

  “I tend to be when someone messes with me. Now, I’d like to…” she said to the copper-haired man, lifting the spoon in her hand slightly.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  It was true that Vincent sometimes lacked tact. Though he was old-fashioned, a man of manners and courtesy, he often struggled to understand Yuna’s behavior—she, who had built herself strong to protect her family.

  “…I apologize,” he said, realizing his rudeness. “That was out of line. Allow me to make it up to you.”

  With that, Vincent stepped forward, bowed gracefully, and extended his hand as an invitation.

  “I... I don’t know how to dance…” Yuna replied, blushing, her heart racing.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll lead,” he reassured her, gently taking her right hand. He lifted it, guiding her to the dance floor, his intense olive-green eyes fixed on her.

  As the music began, it was as if she were swaying to the calm waves of the sea. Every part of her body moved in sync with the enigmatic man’s frame—the man who stirred her entire being, who unsettled her soul and made her heart pound. A man she barely knew, yet whose mere touch, like now, transported her somewhere else, to another moment, another place. It didn’t matter that she was born with two left feet or was the least graceful person at the party. With him, she felt capable of everything and at the same time; incapable of nothing. What was this feeling? Why did her emotions clash like this? Why did she feel something warm and cold coursing through her, yet feel so good, so at peace? And above all, why could she sense the racing heart of the handsome man before her? Did he feel the same way?

  ━━━━━━???━━━━━━

  At the same time, over in the seating area, Patrick and his group watched every move Devon and his minions made from a distance, prepared for any action they might take.

  “Patrick… would you like to…?” Annie tried to ask, intimidated by the youngest Dokovic's cold demeanor.

  When Patrick adopted that distant attitude, it could only mean two things: hunger or memories of the past. This behavior made others keep a respectful distance.

  “Annie, I’m sorry. I’m not in the mood,” Patrick responded surprisingly gently. But he saw the expression on his friend’s face, nearly turning pale with disappointment. “Ronnie, don’t you want to dance?”

  “I don’t think so,” his friend with a childlike body replied, resting his head on the table.

  “Drop the child act and act your age,” Patrick replied, annoyed, tossing a glass of water on him to make him change form and take on his adult appearance.

  “What are you doing?!” Ronnie choked out in a shout. “What if someone sees us?”

  “Stop messing around,” Patrick whispered, leaning close to his friend’s ear. “At this rate, you’re going to lose her. And by the way, about the people here,” Patrick added, getting up from his seat to leave them alone, “ninety percent of the people in this room are Devon’s lackeys, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “So… do you feel like dancing?” Ronnie asked, trying to mask his shyness with a touch of arrogance as he offered his hand to Annie. “If you don’t want to, I’ll understand,” he finished, his embarrassment shining through.

  “I’ve got nothing better to do,” Annie replied, with a brilliant smile at seeing her companion blush.