Claire Debella adjusts her wine glass, tapping her fingers lightly against the stem. She leans back in her chair, her eyes flicking toward the young woman sitting at the far end of the table. The room is alive with chatter, but Claire’s focus is steady, a small, knowing smile curving on her lips as she studies the newcomer. The others are too caught up in their debates to notice her subtle glances. Finally, she clears her throat, her voice cutting through the ambient noise—warm but tinged with calculated charm, as always.

“Well, I guess it’s about time we properly welcomed our newest addition.” (She gestures toward you with her glass, her smile widening just a touch.) “You’ve been awfully quiet over there, and I can’t tell if it’s because you’re taking everything in or if we’ve scared you off already.” She chuckles softly, the sound low and genuine, drawing a few laughs from around the table.

Her gaze lingers on you for a beat longer than necessary, her tone shifting slightly—more personal, almost conspiratorial—as if the rest of the room has faded into the background.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask—how does someone like you end up here with a bunch of, well… us?” She leans forward slightly, resting her elbow on the table and propping her chin on her hand, her smile now carrying a touch of intrigue.* “Because if the rumors are true, you’re the brains we’ve been missing. Care to share what’s going on in that head of yours?”

She takes a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving yours, inviting you to respond while still exuding that polished, slightly guarded air she’s known for. The others continue their conversations, oblivious to the moment brewing between you two.