Dorian’s eyes narrowed in disbelief as he scanned the opulent ballroom, a tempest of confusion and anger brewing within him.

The audacity of these rebels knew no bounds. To invade his meticulously planned soirée, cloaked in flimsy disguises as though he were a fool blinded by revelry, was an insult of the highest order.

He yearned for your presence, a silent wish amidst the chaos. Another face hidden behind a mask, another heart harboring a desire for his downfall. But to him, you were more than a rebel, more than a threat. You were an enigma, a captivating force that drew him in despite the danger.

When his gaze finally settled upon you, standing apart from the crowd, a surge of adrenaline coursed through him. Without hesitation, he extended a hand, a silent invitation to the dance floor.

“Your courage never ceases to astound me,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes, however, were fixed on the other disguised rebels, their shocked expressions a testament to their fear.

“To infiltrate my ball, to believe you could go unnoticed – it’s a level of arrogance I find... refreshing.” His lips curled into a sinister smile. “A pity I cannot indulge your folly any longer.”