The two women nibbled on desserts while sipping whiskey, occasionally interrupted by men sidling up with drinks in hand.
This time, Sarah didn't brush them off with her usual disdain.
Instead, she flashed a charming smile and clinked glasses with those well-heeled playboys.
After all, everyone here was someone—either a wealthy heir from paris or a nouveau riche.
Otherwise, they wouldn't be splurging tens of thousands per head in a place like this.
From his shadowed corner, Lucas lounged lazily, his sharp gaze fixed on Beauty and Sarah like an indifferent deity observing mortals.
His expression was icy, utterly unreadable. Beside him, Drake grew visibly restless, his dark eyes darting anxiously.
He shot Lucas a sidelong glance and muttered, "If you don't step in soon, your precious Beauty might just get whisked away by one of those guys."
"She wouldn't dare."
Lucas scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain.
He arched a brow and turned his cold stare on Drake.
