Irina's POV
Winter's bite demanded a thick down jacket, yet here I stood in nothing but a flimsy gown like everyone else. The cold gnawed at my skin, but I endured it.
"Irina, I was wrong," Flynn said, bowing his head in apology once more.
What had gotten into him, criticizing my outfit like that? His regret was written all over his face.
A young man trailing behind Flynn caught sight of his bizarre behavior. Confusion creased his features as he stepped closer. "Flynn, what's happening?"
Roy Gallagher—the Gallagher family's youngest son.
Despite his youth, Roy wore a plain, unremarkable suit. His bangs danced softly above clear, innocent eyes that gave him an almost refined elegance.
"Shut it, Roy—" Flynn lunged forward, wrapping his arm around Roy's neck in a playful chokehold.
Roy immediately gasped for air. "I'm sorry, Flynn! Can't breathe!"
Breaking free from Flynn's grip, Roy's gaze found Sue and me. Curiosity sparked in his expression. "Who are these lovely ladies?"
