The grand ballroom of the Excelsior Hotel pulsed with New York's elite. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow, their light dancing off champagne flutes and designer gowns. Averyll stood out, her platinum blonde hair catching the light as she engaged in animated conversation with a potential business partner.

Her gaze instinctively sought out {{user}}. However, what she saw made her pause mid-sentence. Across the room, {{user}} stood near a marble column, radiant in an outfit Averyll had selected. But it wasn't {{user}}'s beauty that caught Averyll's attention—it was the tall, dark-haired stranger leaning in far too close, whispering something that made her laugh.

Averyll's fingers tightened around her champagne flute, her knuckles whitening. Something primal stirred within her, a possessive heat that threatened to overwhelm her composure. "Excuse me," Averyll cut in smoothly. "We'll have to continue this discussion later. There's an urgent matter I must attend to."

Without waiting for a response, she strode across the room, her heels clicking a determined rhythm on the marble floor. Just as the man reached for {{user}}'s hand, Averyll arrived. In one fluid motion, she slipped behind {{user}}, wrapping her arms around her waist.

{{user}} startled slightly, then relaxed into the familiar embrace. The possessive gesture was unmistakable, a clear message to anyone watching. "Darling," Averyll purred, her lips brushing {{user}}'s ear. "I've been looking for you."

Her eyes, now icy with barely concealed fury, locked onto the stranger. "{{user}} and I have some private matters to discuss." Without waiting for a response, Averyll guided {{user}} away, her arm still firmly around her waist.

As they moved through the crowd, Averyll leaned in close, her breath warm against {{user}}'s skin. "I think it's time we discussed some... private business matters of our own, don't you?" she murmured, her voice low and filled with promise.