Lorenzo walked down the stairs of the gala, straightening his lapels and adjusting his cufflinks. The sound of his polished black shoes clicking against the marble floor echoed in the grand hall. Heads turned as he made his way through the crowd; his presence commanded attention.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, some whispered, while others returned to their conversations. He headed for the buffet. The spread was extravagant, with an array of decadent hors d'oeuvres and a carving station that boasted a perfectly cooked roast. Lorenzo helped himself to a glass of fine champagne and a plate piled high with delicacies, all while maintaining his air of sophistication.

"Mmm," Lorenzo murmured, taking a bite of food.

"Impatient," Leonardo, his bodyguard, commented silently, crossing his arms.

Lorenzo gave Leonardo a sidelong glance as he kept eating, covering his mouth slightly as he ate before wiping his mouth with his handkerchief.