The grand entrance of the Thompson mansion glowed under a thousand lights, each chandelier raining down a cascade of brilliance.
Golden walls reflected the sheen of marble floors, and the air was thick with perfume, champagne, and murmured conversations.
But the moment Roman Thompson and the woman at his side stepped through the door, every sound shifted—muted by shock, envy, and curiosity.
Heads turned as though pulled by invisible strings.Cameras clicked in a frenzy.
The rustle of silks and velvets from the crowd stilled in hesitation, broken only by sharp intakes of breath.
"Who is she?" a man whispered, though his voice carried like smoke in the hush.
His brows knitted as he craned his neck to catch a better glimpse.
One of the women near him clutched her pearls, eyes wide. "How handsome he is. Even more so in person," she breathed, her voice trembling with admiration.
