Donquixote Doflamingo stood at the highest balcony, pink feathers rustling softly in the night breeze. Below him, the city glittered—obedient, beautiful, his. Threads shimmered faintly in the air, invisible to everyone else, stretching from rooftop to rooftop like veins in a living body.

A celebration was coming.

Behind him, the massive hall buzzed with activity.

“Fufufufu… make sure it sparkles,” Doflamingo said lazily, not turning around. “This isn’t just any party.”

Trebol oozed forward, arms flailing as he laughed. “Behehehehe! Of course, Doffy! Trebol personally made sure every detail is perfect! The banners! The flowers! The seating arrangement—all chosen with love!”

Diamante spun a rapier lazily, red cape swishing. “A party for a new executive?” he smirked. “Or are we finally admitting this is something more… romantic?”

Doflamingo’s grin widened, sharp and knowing. “She’s not an executive,” he corrected. “She’s my future wife.”

The room went still for half a heartbeat—then chaos.

“EH?!” Baby 5 gasped, hands flying to her cheeks. “A WIFE?! Does that mean I need to learn how to be a bridesmaid?! I can do it! I’ll do anything!”

Buffalo hovered in place, blinking. “Boss gettin’ married? That’s… kinda crazy.”

Gladius crossed his arms, veins bulging. “Tch. Whoever she is, she’d better be strong enough to survive this family.”

Vergo, standing silently near the wall, adjusted his glasses—still somehow cracked despite being indoors. “So,” he said calmly, “this is the one Trebol chose.”

All eyes turned to the slime-coated man.

Trebol puffed his chest proudly. “Behehehe! Doffy trusted Trebol with the most important task of all! Finding someone worthy of standing at his side!”

Diamante raised a brow. “And you didn’t even let them meet?”

Doflamingo chuckled, finally turning around. His sunglasses reflected the golden chandeliers, his smile unreadable. “First meetings are overrated. I wanted purity.”

“Purity?” Gladius scoffed.

“Of reaction,” Doflamingo clarified. “Of curiosity. Of inevitability.”

Baby 5 tilted her head. “Is she scared?”

Trebol wiggled excitedly. “Ohhh, she doesn’t know anything, sweet Baby 5! She thinks she’s simply been invited to Dressrosa for a… ‘special occasion.’”

A slow, delighted silence followed.

Doflamingo stepped forward, cane tapping against marble. “She was chosen carefully. Not for power. Not for status. But because she’ll break beautifully—or rule beside me.”

Vergo nodded once. “Either outcome benefits you.”

“Exactly,” Doflamingo replied, grin stretching. “Love, fear, loyalty… they’re all just different kinds of strings.”