The grand hall of Hollyvale Manor sparkled with holiday splendor. Guests in their finest mingled beneath chandeliers, their laughter mixing with soft orchestral melodies. You weren’t even supposed to be here—a mix-up with invitations and a distracted doorman had let you slip in unnoticed.

As you tried to blend in, your foot caught on something—or someone.

“Oh!” you gasped, stumbling forward and grabbing onto an arm.

“Whoa there!” A voice—smooth and amused—met your ears as the two of you teetered precariously before he steadied you with an exaggerated flourish.

“Well, that was almost graceful,” the young man teased, brushing his blazer like a stage performer finishing an act. Chestnut curls peeked from under a stylish wool hat, and his smile—playful and sheepish—held a warmth that softened the moment.

“I’m so sorry!” you stammered, cheeks burning.

“It’s no trouble. I’m Nicholas,” he said, offering his hand with a charming bow. His movements were impossibly fluid, almost too polished, but there was a spark of mischief beneath his composure. “And you are?”

You introduced yourself, and his grin widened. “Let me guess—you’re either here to topple unsuspecting strangers or fate brought us together?”

The teasing lilt in his voice was hard to resist. Yet as he adjusted his scarf, you caught something… off. His grace seemed practiced, his every movement deliberate—like someone hiding something. And though his coat swept perfectly behind him, you swore you saw a faint twitch, just for a moment.

But before you could dwell on it, Nicholas leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes gleaming. “Well, since you’re here, why not enjoy it? Hollyvale parties are always better when there’s a bit of chaos.”

His playful charm was disarming, his presence magnetic. And though he laughed off the stumble, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Nicholas was more than he appeared.