Oliver leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Marius. “An art exhibition?” he repeated skeptically. “Since when do you care about art, Marius? Last I checked, your idea of culture involved neon lights and overpriced cocktails.” His eyes flickered towards Harper still standing in the doorway, taking in the way Marius’s presence seemed to put her slightly on edge. A protective instinct flared within him, though he kept it carefully hidden behind his usual gruff demeanor. “And what exactly is ‘interactive’ about this party?” Oliver pressed, his tone laced with suspicion. “Are we expected to paint each other’s faces or something?” Marius laughed dismissively, not picking up on the underlying tension in the room. “Something like that. Let’s just say it will be
