The sleek ck car glided through Veridia City''s bustling streets. I sat beside Isabelle, trying to appear calm despite my racing heart. The lights of the city blurred past us in streaks of gold and silver.


    "Nervous?" Isabelle asked, her eyes twinkling.


    I gave her a wry smile. "Is it that obvious?"


    "Your knuckles are white," she said, nodding toward my clenched fist. "Rx, Liam. It''s just a party."


    Just a party. Right. A gathering of Veridia City''s most influential families – people who could crush someone like me without a second thought.


    "Your definition of ''nothing too formal'' seems different from mine," I said.


    Isabelleughed, the sound warming me from within. "These are merely acquaintances. Business contacts, family friends." She ced her hand over mine. "Besides, you have me."


    Her touch sent electricity through my veins. Before I could respond, the car pulled up to a sprawling mansion with columns that reached toward the night sky.


    "Sebastian Hawthorne''s residence," Isabelle exined as we stepped out. "New money, but desperate for old connections."


    I straightened my jacket, taking a deep breath. "Any advice before we go in?"


    "Just be yourself," she said, then added with a mischievous smile, "The version of yourself that isn''t afraid of anyone."


    We entered a grand hall filled with the soft murmur of conversation and tinkling crystal. Waiters glided between guests, offering champagne and hors d''oeuvres on silver trays. I epted a ss, grateful for something to upy my hands.


    The moment Isabelle stepped into the room, a hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned toward us – or rather, toward her. She moved with the grace of royalty, her chin held high.


    "Isabelle!" A woman in a glittering dress approached, air-kissing both of Isabelle''s cheeks. "We weren''t sure you''de tonight."


    "I wouldn''t miss it, Vivienne," Isabelle replied smoothly. "Allow me to introduce Liam Knight."


    The woman''s gaze flitted over me, assessing. Her smile remained fixed, but her eyes cooled several degrees. "How... unexpected. Are you new to Veridia City, Mr. Knight?"


    "Rtively," I answered, matching her polite tone.


    "Mr. Knight is staying with us at the Ashworth residence," Isabelle added, her voice carrying just enough to be heard by those nearby.


    The effect was immediate. Whispers erupted around us like wildfire. I could almost hear the questions forming in their minds: Who is this man? What is his connection to the Ashworth family?


    As we moved through the crowd, Isabelle kept her hand on my arm. Each introduction followed a simr pattern – polite smiles masking intense curiosity, veiled questions about my background, and calcting nces between Isabelle and me.


    "They''re wondering what I''m doing here," I murmured to her after our sixth introduction.


    "Let them wonder," she replied, her eyes dancing with amusement. Thank you for reading. This was brought to you by *.


    A waiter passed with a tray of drinks. Isabelle took two sses, handing one to me. She clinked her ss against mine, then leaned closer.


    "Why don''t we give them something real to talk about?" she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.


    My pulse quickened. "What did you have in mind?"


    Isabelle took a sip of her champagne, then said loud enough for others to hear, "You should tell them, Liam."


    "Tell them what?"


    Her eyes locked with mine, challenging and encouraging all at once. "About us."


    Time seemed to slow. In that moment, I understood what she was asking. It was more than just a statement – it was a deration of war against every expectation, every social barrier that separated us.


    I looked around at the crowd of elegant strangers, all watching us with undisguised interest. My old self would have retreated, made excuses, yed it safe. But I wasn''t that man anymore.


    Taking Isabelle''s hand in mine, I turned to face the curious onlookers. "I''d like to make something clear," I announced, my voice stronger than I expected. "I am Isabelle Ashworth''s boyfriend."


    The silence was deafening. For three heartbeats, no one moved. Then a ss shattered somewhere in the crowd, the sound like ice breaking.


    "Is this true?" someone finally asked Isabelle.


    She smiled, squeezing my hand. "Absolutely."


    What followed was a flurry of reactions – tight smiles, forced congrattions, widened eyes, and thinly veiled shock. Some approached us immediately, their curiosity overriding their surprise.


    "How wonderful," a silver-haired woman cooed, though her eyes were sharp as knives. "How did you two meet?"


    "At a moment when I needed help most," Isabelle answered before I could speak. "Liam was there."


    More guests gathered around us, their questionsing faster.


    "What business are you in, Mr. Knight?"


    "Are you rted to the Knights of Eastern Province?"


    "How long have you two been together?"


    I fielded each question as best I could, keeping my answers vague yet confident. Through it all, Isabelle remained by my side, her presence my anchor in this storm of attention.


    As the initial shock wore off, I noticed the whispers increasing. One name kept surfacing: "Dashiell ckthorne."


    "Who is Dashiell ckthorne?" I asked Isabelle quietly when we had a moment alone.


    Her expression darkened slightly. "A suitor my family once considered. His family has been trying to forge an alliance with the Ashworths for generations."


    "And now he''ll know about us."


    "He already does," she said, nodding toward the entrance. "Word travels fast in these circles."


    Before I could respond, the crowd parted to reveal a tall, imposing figure walking toward us. He wasn''t particrly old – perhaps in his fifties – but he carried himself with the weight of centuries. His eyes, keen and piercing, fixed on me with unnerving intensity.


    "Emerson Holmes," Isabelle whispered. "Grandmaster of the Veridia City Martial Guild. Be careful."


    The man stopped before us, inclining his head slightly toward Isabelle. "Miss Ashworth. I hear congrattions are in order."


    "Mr. Holmes," she greeted him warmly. "How kind of you to say so."


    His gaze shifted to me. "And this must be the lucky man."


    I extended my hand. "Liam Knight."


    Holmes took my hand, his grip firm. "Indeed."


    Without warning, an invisible pressure descended upon me. It felt as if the air itself had be dense, pressing against my skin, forcing the breath from my lungs. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of it.


    This was no ordinary handshake. It was a test – a demonstration of power.


    I gritted my teeth, summoning my strength to withstand the pressure. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I fought to remain standing. For what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only seconds, we remained locked in this silent battle of wills.


    Finally, Holmes released my hand, the pressure vanishing instantly. His expression revealed nothing, but I caught a flicker of something in his eyes – surprise, perhaps, or disappointment.


    "Interesting," he murmured, more to himself than to me.


    Turning to Isabelle, Holmes asked, "Where did you find this one, Miss Ashworth? He''s not from Veridia City, I presume."


    Isabelle''s smile never faltered. "Hmm... he is a man who will stand at the pinnacle of Veridia City in the future."