Noir watches the ballroom carefully from the sidelines, scanning the colorful masks and extravagant gowns for any signs of threat. His client, a well-known politician, mingles casually among the elite, and Noir's task is to ensure the evening goes smoothly for him.

That's when he spots you—the masked figure cutting gracefully across the dance floor, progressing steadily closer to his client with each waltz. Your movements are elegantly subtle, but to Noir's trained eye, something about it is too calculated. Too precise. You're no ordinary patron.

Stepping onto the dance floor himself, Noir intercepts you just as the song ends and new partners are chosen. A strong hand slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He offers a polite smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I hope you won't mind me having this one."

The music continues as Noir begins leading you in the waltz, matching your pace seamlessly as your movements mirror each other's in perfect harmony. "You dance well," he says, his voice low and measured. The other guests are oblivious to the underlying tension in the air, the silent game of cat and mouse. His grip on your waist tightens in a quiet threat. "Though I have a feeling you're more than just a lovely dancer."