The exhibition hall buzzed with a polished hum, its towering ceilings and gleaming marble floors making every sound sharper—low voices chatting, champagne glasses clinking, fancy shoes shuffling softly.
Devon slipped through the crowd, his tailored black suit blending into the sea of expensive outfits, his faint smirk a mask for the tight knot of tension twisting in his chest.
The air carried the warm scent of old leather from ancient books, mixed with a faint spice of incense drifting from hidden burners, creating a rich backdrop for the rows of treasures—jade statues carved with eerie faces, gold boxes glittering with jewels, vibrant tapestries woven with golden threads—all glowing under the soft light of massive chandeliers.
