She drifted away into the crowd, her glass raised toward a group of board members.

“I don’t trust her,” I whispered to Damon.

“Neither do I,” Damon said. “Keep Leo close.”

We moved through the ballroom, shaking hands with executives, politicians, and socialites.

Every smile felt like a mask, every congratulatory word like a veiled question.

Leo stayed by my side, his hand holding onto my skirt.

Suddenly, the crystal chandeliers overhead flickered.

The violin music stopped abruptly.

The ambient chatter in the room died down to a murmur of confusion.

“What is happening?” I asked, looking up at the lights.

“It is likely a minor grid fluctuation,” Damon said, but his eyes were already scanning the room.

His hand went to his earpiece.

The lights flickered again, then went out completely, plunging the massive ballroom into darkness.

Gasps and startled shouts echoed through the crowd.

Emergency red lights kicked on near the exit doors, casting an eerie glow over the guests.

“Damon,” I said, reaching down to scoop Leo into my arms.

“I have you,” Damon said, his hand instantly finding my wrist.