The Blackthorne mansion was alive with the hum of high society. Chandeliers sparkled, laughter echoed, and the rich scent of champagne filled the air. Tonight, the Blackthorne family was hosting an elite gathering—a charity gala that was more about power than generosity.
Eleanor stood at the top of the grand staircase, dressed in an elegant midnight-blue gown that hugged her curves and cascaded like liquid silk. Her golden hair was styled to perfection, framing her delicate yet confident features.
She could feel their eyes on her.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Is that the new Blackthorne bride?"
"She looks stunning, but does she belong here?"
"I heard the Devil Brothers despise her. How long before she's gone?"
Eleanor ignored them. She had walked into a lion's den, but she was no prey.
At the base of the stairs, Alexander and Sebastian stood like twin shadows—both devastatingly handsome, both dangerously untouchable. Alexander wore his signature black, his expression unreadable. Sebastian, ever the charmer, had a smirk that could melt hearts and break them just as easily.
As Eleanor descended, she caught Alexander's gaze. His blue eyes flickered with something unreadable before he turned away, as if she were insignificant.
Sebastian, on the other hand, extended a hand toward her, his smirk deepening. "Shall we dance, darling?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Eleanor hesitated for a fraction of a second before slipping her fingers into his.
"Try to keep up," she whispered.
Sebastian chuckled, leading her to the dance floor. The orchestra swelled, and they moved effortlessly, their bodies in perfect sync.
"You surprise me, Eleanor," he murmured as they twirled.
"Good," she replied smoothly. "I intend to."
Across the room, Alexander sipped his whiskey, watching them with an unreadable expression.
This was her first real step into the Blackthorne world.
And she was just getting started.