STELLA
The venue was an epitome of luxury. The grand hall, draped in deep velvet curtains, shimmered under golden chandeliers, the scent of expensive cologne and aged whiskey mixing with the subtle sweetness of fresh roses that adorned the tables. A politician’s party. Opulence at its finest. Every guest in attendance was either a man in power or someone desperately trying to be in his good graces.
And I was the woman who made sure the night ran flawlessly.
I moved through the space with practiced ease, my heels clicking against the marble floor as I checked every detail—the cascading floral arrangements, the perfectly folded napkins, the uniformed Waits staff moving seamlessly between the clusters of men in tailored suits and women in gowns that cost more than my rent.
The lighting wa
