ISLA’S POV
The room was bustling with life as Oliver guided me through the crowd, his hand firm on my back. The scent of expensive perfumes mingled in the air, and the soft hum of classical music provided a backdrop to the clinking of champagne glasses and endless chatter.
Before I could catch a breath, a swarm of people descended upon us. Or rather, on Oliver. They surrounded him like bees to honey, their voices rising in excitement as they vied for his attention.
I stood by his side, plastering on a polite smile, even though I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the background.
“Mr. Blackwood, it’s been ages!” one man exclaimed, reaching out to shake Oliver’s hand.
“Oliver, you simply must visit our new resort in the south. It’s divine,” a woman chimed in, her sparkling dress
