RH Hotel.
The grand hall glittered with chandeliers and whispered elegance, the air heavy with perfume and silk.
Olivia, draped in a flowing purple gown and wearing a matching mask, looked the picture of grace and nobility. A glass of champagne in hand, she politely turned down yet another man who asked her to dance.
"Sorry, I'm not in the mood to dance right now."
Her tone was gentle, but beneath the mask, impatience flickered across her face.
The man retreated, and a middle-aged man in a black tuxedo approached.
"Olivia."
It was Andrew.
"Dad, when is Lucas coming?" she whispered, restless. She'd been waiting far too long.
Andrew shot her a calm glance. "What's the rush? The Scotts announced he'd be here tonight. If they say he'll come, he'll come."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "And lose that spoiled-princess attitude. With your looks, catching Lucas's attention won't be hard. You know what state Morgan Group is in—if you can connect with him, even one contract he tosses our way will turn everything around."
"As for Ethan, leave him to me. Don't worry."
Olivia lifted her chin, confident in her beauty. "Relax, Dad. I'll make sure Lucas notices me."
Andrew patted her arm. "The entire Morgan family is counting on you."
She nodded, proud and assured—only to notice everyone's gaze shift toward the entrance.
Turning, she saw a man in a mask being wheeled into the hall.
Lucas.
There was no mistaking him. In all of City A, no one else in a wheelchair commanded such an aura.
The moment he appeared, people surged forward, eager to exchange a word, to be noticed. But Alex, cold and efficient, blocked them all. "Please step aside. Mr. Hilton doesn't care for crowds."
No one dared offend Lucas, so they quickly parted, leaving a clear path.
Alex wheeled him toward a quieter corner.
"Sanitize," Lucas said coolly.
"Yes, Mr. Hilton."
Alex pulled out a small bottle of custom disinfectant spray, misting the air around Lucas. His obsession with cleanliness is only getting worse, Alex thought grimly.
Lucas's brows eased slightly, though his face remained impassive.
...
Outside the hotel.
A long black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a stop. Harper and Sophia stepped out one after the other, instantly stealing the attention of every man nearby.
Harper's eyes stayed fixed on Sophia's masked face. "My God, darling—even with a mask on, you're still breathtaking."
"Am I?" Sophia lowered her voice deliberately, lifting Harper's chin with a teasing hand. "Sweetheart, you're stunning too."
Harper's heartbeat spiked as Sophia's flawless beauty filled her vision. She swallowed hard, clutching her chest with a silent curse. Why, oh why, wasn't I born a man?
Sophia's laugh rang out, light and clear. "Alright, stop pouting. Let's go in."
"Then take my arm, gorgeous," Harper said, offering it with mock gallantry.
Sophia slipped her arm through hers without hesitation.
At the entrance, they handed over their invitations. A waiter checked them and bowed politely. "Welcome, ladies. Please, this way."
Sophia inclined her head in acknowledgment, then walked inside with Harper at her side.
The waiter stood frozen, staring after the retreating figure in violet satin, long after she was gone.
Only when another waiter exhaled sharply did he snap back to himself. "Good God, who was that in the purple gown? She was… unbelievable."
The first waiter murmured, his voice drifting with awe.
"I saw the name on her invitation. That was Luna Gray—the internationally renowned designer who's taken the fashion world by storm."
The second waiter nearly dropped his tray. "That was Luna?!"
So this was what the legendary Luna Gray looked like—breathtaking beyond imagination.
Inside the ballroom.
Olivia waited until Lucas was left alone before making her move—but halfway across the floor, an unexpected figure appeared.
A striking silhouette in deep violet glided in from the entrance, her graceful posture, porcelain skin, and red lips instantly drawing the eyes of nearly everyone present.
Olivia froze, biting down hard in secret, jealousy burning in her gaze.
Damn it. She was wearing the same color gown!
If she walked up to Lucas now, everyone would immediately notice the comparison—and she would lose.
Lucas's dark eyes lingered on Sophia, shadowed and unreadable. Why does she feel so familiar…
Up on the second-floor balcony, Devin Scott paused mid-sip, interest flickering across his face. Resting one arm on the railing, he raised his glass in a silent toast toward the woman below.
Sophia responded with a faint smile, then casually shifted her gaze elsewhere.
That man in the wheelchair—was it him who had been watching her so intently?
She looked away without hesitation, drifting toward the champagne tower and plucking a glass from the top.
As her eyes swept the room, she spotted a familiar figure and her lips curved. Found you.
What a coincidence—they were both dressed in purple tonight.
Sophia remained calm, simply waiting. She knew Olivia would take the bait.
And soon, the fish swam straight to the hook.
Olivia, a glass in hand, moved toward her with feigned nonchalance but unmistakable purpose.
The moment they passed each other, Olivia let out a little gasp and deliberately stumbled toward Sophia—her drink tipped, aimed squarely at the violet gown.
But Sophia had read her like an open book. She sidestepped swiftly, and Olivia's entire scheme collapsed in an instant.
The dark red wine splashed across the marble floor. Off balance, Olivia slipped, tumbling right into the spill.
"Ahhh!"
Her gown was instantly stained, her scream piercing through the music. The look on her face—shock, anger, humiliation—was almost pitiful.
Sophia's lips curled as she savored the sight, then, putting on a mask of concern, she asked sweetly, "Miss, do you need a hand?"
Olivia shot her a hateful glare. Of course she knew Sophia had dodged on purpose. And now she had the audacity to play innocent?
Still… that voice. Why did it sound so familiar?
Grinding her teeth, Olivia pushed herself up from the floor. "No need." Her tone was icy.
She straightened her spine and added coldly, "Just watch where you're going next time, so you don't bump into people again."
Sophia let out a soft, amused breath. Classic Olivia. Always so quick to frame others.
She lifted her chin, gesturing lazily toward the flower wall. "You didn't know? There's a security camera right there."
Olivia's face drained of color in an instant.