The venue was grand, filled with soft golden lights that shimmered against the marble floors. The hall was packed with elegantly dressed guests, all talking in polite tones and laughter. The atmosphere buzzed with the quiet hum of expensive conversations—business, politics, and influence.
Starry moved through the room with practiced ease, acknowledging people with nods but never lingering too long in any one conversation. He didn’t care for these events, but they were necessary. It was all part of the life he had been born into.
Chloe, on the other hand, kept close to Oscar and Ria. She wasn’t uncomfortable, but she was aware of the eyes on her. More importantly, she was aware of one particular pair of eyes—Evelyn Wordsworth.
Starry’s mother stood across the room, her expression unreada
