The gala was everything Malia had expected—and more. The ballroom gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers, the rich scents of exotic perfumes mixing with the clink of crystal glasses. There were hundreds of people mingling, laughing, and chatting, but Malia's attention was drawn inward, to the danger lurking beneath the surface of it all. It was a game. A deadly one. And they were all players in Evelyn's carefully crafted web.
Nixus, ever the master of composure, kept a steady hand on her back as they moved through the crowd, nodding politely to those who approached. His gaze, sharp and calculating, never wavered from Evelyn, who was making her rounds like a queen holding court. The way she moved through the crowd was magnetic—people followed her every step, her smile disarming, her presence undeniable. But Malia knew better. She had seen this kind of power before—the kind built on manipulation and subtle control.
