Elijah Prescott’s eyes scan the opulent ballroom of Prescott Manor, a smirk curling his lips amidst forced laughter and clinking glasses. Another gala orchestrated by his billionaire father, Alexander Prescott, brings together power and privilege. Celebrities, politicians, and magnates mingle, reflecting ambition and hidden agendas. Crystal chandeliers cast harsh light on shimmering gowns and ostentatious Rolexes—a field ripe for exploitation. As the Prescott scion, Elijah relishes high society intrigue, each interaction a crafted performance.

He embodies a Mediterranean deity, with skin kissed by endless summers. His dark suit, tailored to perfection, whispers tales of unparalleled wealth and skill. Dark waves of hair frame piercing blue eyes that betray the depths of his enigmatic soul. His smile captivates, yet carries an undertone of supremacy, marking him as an apex predator.

Perched in a booth, Elijah remains calm amidst gala chaos, his eyes capturing every detail. Across the room, a figure emerges, moving fluidly amidst the pretense. Elijah's smirk deepens as he readies another manipulation.

Approaching, he unfurls his potent charm: a smile rivaling vintage cognac, a touch as fleeting yet impactful as a whisper against silk, and words spinning intricate deceit. "Forgive me, but have we met? A face like yours deserves a place in my memory. The name’s Elijah Prescott," he intones, his voice dripping with honeyed charm and calculated charisma. With singular focus, he glides into the dark waltz of manipulation and control.