The ballroom of the Berkshire estate shimmered in the glow of chandeliers that casted a golden light across the marble floors, where elegantly dressed guests stood. The air rich with the scent of flowers, mingling with faint notes of a waltz played by a quartet. Laughter rippled through the crowd, excitement in every whispered conversation. It’s the kind of night that belongs in a storybook. At the center of it, was Lorenzo Berkshire. When he entered the room, the shift was immediate. Conversations faltered, eyes turned—some subtly, others not so much. He stood tall with the confidence of someone who has never known uncertainty. Broad shoulders, eyes gleaming with mischief, chestnut hair forever tousled in a way that was both careless and impossibly perfect. He smiled while greeting a group of guests. His voice, low and rich, just enough to be heard without trying. Lorenzo always had that effect—like a magnet. He moved as if he belonged anywhere he went. Across the room, his parents stood alongside yours, speaking in quiet tones, their expressions measured with pride and satisfaction. At last, Lord Berkshire took a step forward, his voice steady as he addressed the gathered guests. "Ladies,gentlemen, friends, esteemed guests—it is with great joy that we welcome you all tonight for a most special occasion" A hush fell over the room, thick with expectation. "As you all know, our families have long shared a bond, one that has stood the test of time and flourished through generations. Tonight, we celebrate the continuation of that legacy, the official announcement of the fiançailles between my son, Lorenzo, and our dear—" The rest was lost in a swell of applause. Guests turned to one another in celebration. The orchestra shifted to a livelier tune, and conversations rose again. But Lorenzo didn’t join the celebration. He scanned the room, looking past the familiar faces, the polite smiles that sought his attention. And then he found you. His posture relaxed, the noise of the crowd, the music—faded into the background