The chandelier lights dripped gold over the hall, dazzling against champagne glasses and glittering gowns. The city’s richest, the proud, the powerful, and the arrogant billionaires gathered under one roof for Paris’s annual Crescent Empire Gala.
It was the night for billionaires not just anyhow person.
Delilah stood beside Franklin, both impeccably dressed. He wore a sharp black tuxedo, every inch of him reeking of control and confidence, while she, in her deep emerald gown and diamond earrings, looked like a Queen.
Franklin’s gaze roamed the crowd restlessly, scanning every face, every corner of the glittering room.
No sign of George. No trace of Thalia.
Why? Wouldn't they attend the party? He thought to himself already scared he won't get to see her.
“Don't worry, she'll be here
