The silence spread across the ballroom like a ripple.
The string quartet stopped mid-note. Conversations died. Even the clinking of glasses faded into nothing.
Mason’s eyes locked on the envelope in my hand. For the first time since I had known him, he didn’t look confident. He looked… cornered.
“Whatever you think you’re doing,” he whispered, forcing a smile for the guests now watching closely, “this isn’t the place.”
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