"Some girls bloom under the spotlight. Others grow in the shadows—quiet, unseen, but still reaching for the light."_Unknown
The estate was like something out of a fairy tale.
Cascading crystal chandeliers shimmered like constellations in the vaulted ceilings. Soft golden lighting bathed the white marble floors, reflecting the glow of grand floral arrangements that seemed to bloom in every corner—roses, orchids, and lilies in muted blush tones, carefully arranged in towering vases. The scent of fresh petals mingled with the refined notes of champagne and cinnamon pastries, forming a perfume of opulence.
Guests glided across the ballroom in gowns and suits worth more than most cars. The air buzzed with anticipation and admiration. Beneath the glitter, tension brewed—every smile was measured, every laugh deliberate. Eyes flicked toward the grand staircase every few seconds, waiting.
Maeve stepped in quietly behind her aunt and cousins, her ash-grey hair pinned into soft waves that shimmered with hints of lavender beneath the chandeliers. Her makeup was simple, perfectly done, but unlike Katie and Kelly—who sparkled like ornaments from head to toe—Maeve didn't draw attention.
She didn't want to.
The walls echoed with music from a live orchestra nestled on an upper balcony. Elegant waiters carried silver trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres, their steps as quiet as shadows. The entire scene looked like a page out of a royal ball—but everyone in that room knew this wasn't just an event.
It was an audition.
And then, the room shifted.
A hush fell as if someone had flipped a switch. Heads turned. Voices dropped to murmurs. A presence had entered the room.
Levi Gazdanov.
He moved with purpose, not fanfare. Dressed in black tailored to quiet perfection, his dark hair fell into a lazy curtain that somehow made him look both effortlessly young and intimidatingly refined. Behind his subtle glasses, his sharp eyes missed nothing.
A man followed at a respectful distance—likely an assistant or advisor—saying something quietly into his earpiece as Levi surveyed the crowd without a smile, without a nod. And just like that, he passed through the ballroom and disappeared behind a side door.
The air released a collective breath. Chatter resumed, this time more intense.
Linda, now fully charged with ambition, straightened her shoulders and turned sharply to her daughters. "Remember what I told you. Speak clearly. Walk like you belong here. Smile, but don't grin like fools."
She didn't spare Maeve even a glance. Not one word. As if she hadn't walked in at all.
Maeve moved quietly to the side, clutching a glass of untouched lemonade she didn't remember picking up. Her heart thumped, not out of hope or nerves, but the quiet kind of ache that came from being deeply aware of your own invisibility.
Soon, the assistant returned to the ballroom. He stepped onto a small platform near the center and tapped the mic.
"Good evening, and thank you for attending. Mr. Gazdanov appreciates your presence. Please, feel free to enjoy the night. Refreshments are available, and conversations are welcome. Your grace and elegance will not go unnoticed."
He gave a courteous nod and exited the stage.
Levi had now taken a seat in a veranda-like structure elevated slightly from the ballroom floor—an open, shaded lounge that gave him full view of the event. He sat with his legs crossed, one hand loosely resting on the armrest. Beside him, a drink sparkled in a short glass. His face was unreadable, watching. Judging. Waiting.
The dance began.
Not a literal one—but a social ballet. Girls began adjusting their postures. Laughs came out in lilting tones. Conversations turned strategic. People angled themselves to be seen, to be remembered. The room bloomed in artificial grace.
Maeve stood off to the side, her back nearly pressed to a tall ivory pillar that rose up toward the crystal-covered ceiling. Her eyes found the enormous windows on the far wall. Beyond them, the night sky stretched endlessly, stars twinkling like old friends.
She let herself be still. Small. Unseen.
But across the room, something flickered.
Levi's eyes paused—just for a second—on her.
It could've been a coincidence. It could've been a mistake. But in that one fleeting moment, it felt like their eyes met. Really met.
Her breath caught.
And then… he looked away.
Back to the room. Back to the sparkle and elegance and ambition orbiting him like moths to a flame.
Maeve turned her head slowly, pressing her fingers around the chilled glass in her hand, and stepped further behind the pillar. She didn't belong in the center of the ballroom. Never had.
She tilted her head to the side and looked out the window again, the stars reflecting faintly in her eyes. In the chaos of gold and glass behind her, no one noticed the quiet girl.
Not yet.
But the man on the veranda did.
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