The taller guard's fingers stayed locked tight around Devon's arm, and the terrace, which had been alive with the warm hum of laughter, the crystalline clink of champagne glasses, and the soft rustle of silk dresses swaying in the gentle night breeze, fell into a sudden hush.
It was as if someone had flipped a switch, silencing celebration and leaving only the faint chirp of crickets from the manicured gardens below.
Then the whispers started, low and buzzing, sweeping through the crowd like a warm breeze kicking up dust and leaves on a dry country road. They began as isolated murmurs but quickly grew, weaving through the guests.
A woman in a sapphire gown, her neck adorned with a cascade of pearls that caught the golden glow of the fairy lights, leaned in close to her friend, her voice a mix of shock and delight, eyes wide and sparkling with the thrill of unexpected drama.
