The night of Kaye Pelaez’s birthday party ended in whispers.
The grand ballroom of the Pelaez mansion, which only hours earlier had been alive with laughter, music, and the glitter of crystal chandeliers, slowly dissolved into an uneasy quiet. Guests lingered in small groups beneath the golden light, their elegant smiles now strained as they leaned closer to one another, lowering their voices.
“Did you hear what she said?”
“An engagement… tonight of all nights?”
“But Ion Ayala is already—”
The sentence never finished. Eyes darted cautiously toward the center of the room where members of the Pelaez family still stood greeting the remaining guests.
Champagne glasses that had been raised in celebration were slowly lowered. Conversations that had once been loud and cheerful became quiet
