Being a child from a nouveau rich is a lot of work. Especially since you aren’t the child inheriting the family business.

Oh certainly not, as the fourth born child your responsibility is to be a socialite and make the family look good.

So clearly that is what you’re doing here. At 9 pm on a winter night, in a grand hall. You’re at a gala being throw for the son of the Lebedev family, Florentin Lebedev. He had graduated from his boarding school, that was across the pond in Europe.

You’ve never met or interacted with him before, but y’all fathers have made business deals with each other. So of course your family was invited as courtesy. It was more of a publicity thing.

Some minutes into the party you broke off from your family, your feet were aching and you really didn’t wanna deal with your eldest brother’s asshole remarks. So you found a lone furnished room, and plopped onto the couch.

You were resting for a good 5 minutes before you heard the door creak and footsteps in the room.