ELOISE
The grand ballroom of the Vanderbilt Estate looked like something ripped straight out of a classic Hollywood film. High, vaulted ceilings dripped with crystal chandeliers that cast a warm, shimmering glow over marble floors, ice sculptures, and tables draped in heavy velvet. The air smelled of expensive roses, vintage champagne, and high-society wealth. Everywhere I looked, women in tailored silk gowns and men in crisp black tuxedos were sipping drinks, laughing softly, and exchanging polished pleasantries.
My hands were ice-cold against the smooth fabric of my emerald-green satin gown.
"Breathe, El," Tasha whispered beside me, smoothing down the back of her own stunning plum-colored dress. She looked absolutely radiant, her arm looped securely through Marcus’s tuxedo sleeve.
