Chapter 916:
Dylan had swapped his previously black suit for one of pale lavender, a choice that made him gleam all the more. Those who knew Dylan well were aware that his palette rarely strayed beyond black, with the occasional white or gray. Such vivid color was unheard of for him. This was the first time anyone had seen him embrace something so bright.
From a quiet corner, Edwin observed, his thoughts tumbling over themselves. He had watched Dylan try on one black suit after another before, only to settle, finally, on this daring lavender. Never before had Edwin seen Dylan in such a lively shade, as though he were deliberately putting his best self on display.
And when Edwin learned Christina would attend the banquet, everything clicked. Dylan had chosen his attire with unusual care, determined to make an impression. Christina, it seemed, had done the impossible—she had brought color into the wardrobe, and perhaps the life, of a man who had lived in shades of monochrome.
Edwin’s respect for Christina deepened; she had indeed managed to captivate the most sought-after man in the room with nothing more than her quiet, undeniable charm.
The moment Dylan appeared, the crowd instinctively parted for him, every gaze fastening upon his commanding figure.
A faint smirk curled beneath Lorraine’s silver mask as she turned to Christina. “Mr. Scott has arrived. Let’s go.”
The moment had come, or so Lorraine thought—she would finally cast Christina into the abyss of public humiliation, leaving her with not a single thread of reputation to cling to. And when that happened, before driving Christina out of the banquet, she would rip away that mask—exposing Christina as a veritable clown for all to mock.
Lorraine’s gaze stayed fixed upon Christina, as though expecting her to falter and retreat. Only when Christina took the lead with steady, unhurried steps did the tension in Lorraine’s shoulders gradually melt away, like frost surrendering to the sun.
𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 g⍺𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘴﹐ⅽ𝗈𝗺
Very soon, the guests’ eyes were drawn, as if by magnetic pull, to the grotesque clown mask—its garish grin slicing through the banquet’s refined splendor like a jagged scar.
Beneath that grotesque clown mask shimmered a lilac evening gown, its scattered blossoms drifting like celestial petals across the twilight silk. Even with the mask concealing her face, her regal elegance seemed to radiate—an ethereal presence that stirred the imagination, tempting all who looked upon her with visions of the resplendent beauty hidden beneath.
She was so dazzlingly radiant that Lorraine, walking at her side, seemed to fade into shadow. Even the Allison-designed gown adorning Lorraine became nothing more than a muted backdrop, swallowed whole by her blinding luminescence.
The guests’ attention soon sharpened like compass needles, drawn irresistibly by the women’s deliberate path—a silent advance through the champagne haze, each step taking them closer to Dylan’s commanding presence.
“Who are those two? They look like they’re heading straight for Mr. Scott—how audacious, trying to invite him to dance!”
“They’re doomed. Everyone knows Mr. Scott has never accepted a dance invitation—not even from the treasured girl raised by the Scott family.”
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