ELEANOR
The evening was cool, almost too perfect for what I was about to face. The sun was setting, leaving behind streaks of gold and orange that faded into the night, allowing the stars a moment to shine brightly. I could hear the music from inside the venue even before we reached the gate. It was beautiful—violins and other instruments playing in perfect harmony. This wasn’t just any party and it was already clear from just the music alone. Only the elite—ones with unimaginable power, could attend something like this.
When we got to the gate, the chauffeur rolled down his window and showed the security some kind of pass. They didn’t ask any questions; they just waved us in. I sat in the back of Armando’s limo, stiff and uncomfortable. The tension between us was thick, the same kind o
