Ephyra glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "I’m flattered, but I must decline," she said politely, setting her glass down on a nearby table.
"Are you sure?" he pressed, his tone light. "I promise not to step on your toes."
Her lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes held no warmth. "Quite sure. But thank you for the offer."
The man hesitated before nodding and retreating into the crowd.
Malia squealed, leaning in close. "Oh my God, Ephyra! Did you see the way he looked at you? That man was srized. And you turned him down like it was nothing!"
Ephyra smirked, picking up her champagne again. "Because it was nothing. n like him are drawn to mystery, not substance."
"Still," Malia pressed, her excitent undeterred. "You’ve got the entire room eating out of your hand, and you’re not even trying."
"That’s the point," Ephyra replied coolly, her gaze drifting back to the dance floor where Alan and Myra swayed together. Their polished smiles faltered under the weight of Ephyra’s silent scrutiny.
Malia followed her line of sight, her expression darkening. "You really are planning sothing, aren’t you?"
"Not planning," Ephyra corrected, her tone asured. "Executing."
A few minutes passed, and four n approached their table in quick succession. Two of them directed their attention toward Ephyra, each requesting a dance. She declined both with polite but firm smiles, her deanor as impenetrable as ever. The other two turned their focus to Malia. She waved off the first one with a flick of her hand, but when the second man spoke, his polished British accent caught her interest. With a playful grin, she accepted his offer, allowing herself to be led onto the dance floor.
Soon after, a tall, elegantly dressed woman approached Cyran with a soft smile and an outstretched hand. "Would you honor with a dance?" she asked. Cyran hesitated, casting a glance at the group, but ultimately nodded. "Of course," he said, rising to his feet. He allowed the woman to guide him toward the waltzing couples, his posture slightly stiff.
Left behind at the dessert table, Ephyra and Orla sat quietly. Orla occasionally sipped from her glass of wine while casting discreet glances at the dancers. Ephyra, on the other hand, seed completely at ease, her gaze sweeping over the room. For nearly fifteen minutes, they remained like this—silent observers—until the waltz concluded and the dancers began to return to their seats.
Malia was the first to reappear, her cheeks flushed and her steps brisk as she rejoined the group. "Well, that was an experience," she said, exhaling dramatically as she picked up her drink.
"Oh?" Orla asked, raising a brow. "Not what you expected?"
"Not at all," Malia replied, rolling her eyes. "At first, I thought he was a perfect gentleman. He had the charm, the manners, and, of course, that accent. But once we started dancing..." She paused, gesturing animatedly. "Let’s just say the way he looked at , the things he said, and even the way he moved—it all felt so calculated, like he was trying too hard to impress. He was attentive, sure, and even funny, but I realized he was only a gentleman on the surface."
Orla smirked. "Ah, the curse of superficial charm. But let’s be honest—you always find fault in everything and everyone."
Malia groaned, rolling her eyes as she flopped into her chair. "Yeah, right. But I’m not trying to find faults—I found faults in him, okay? Honestly, I thought I’d struck gold, but it turns out he’s just another polished façade."
Ephyra’s lips curved into a faint smirk. "A sha," she said dryly. "But hardly surprising. n like that often rely on appearances to mask their intentions."
Malia leaned back with a sigh, her excitent dimd but not extinguished. "Well, at least he didn’t step on my toes. That’s sothing, I guess."
Orla chuckled softly, while Ephyra returned her attention to the room.
The next event was the celebration of the partnership between Aelion Laboratories and Latham Laboratory.
The emcee invited the Vice President of Latham Laboratory, who was none other than Leandra Latham, Alan’s mother, to the stage to give a speech. Dressed in an elegant erald gown that matched the opulence of the evening, Leandra Latham exuded confidence as she approached the podium, and the crowd grew silent in anticipation.
"Good evening, distinguished guests, alumni, and esteed colleagues," Leandra began, her voice smooth. "Tonight, we celebrate not only the accomplishnts of our past but also the exciting ventures that will shape our collective future."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, lingering briefly on Alan and Myra before moving on. "The partnership between Aelion Laboratories and Latham Laboratory represents more than just a business alliance. It is a commitnt to innovation, to progress, and to the betternt of society. Together, we aim to redefine the possibilities within our fields, pushing boundaries and setting new standards for excellence."
Applause rippled through the room, and Leandra smiled graciously. "This partnership is also deeply personal for . Aelion Laboratories has been a leader in cutting-edge research, a beacon of ingenuity, and I am proud that our family na will stand beside theirs in the annals of scientific history."
Ephyra’s eyes caught the slight tension in Alan’s posture as his mother spoke.
Leandra’s voice softened, taking on a more personal tone. "But tonight isn’t just about labs, experints, or data sheets. It’s about the people behind those innovations—the drears, the doers, the ones who see not just what is, but what could be. To my son Alan and his fiancée, Myra, I say this: may your union inspire the sa harmony and collaboration that our partnership symbolizes."
The audience applauded warmly, though Ephyra noted the flicker of unease in Myra’s expression, as if the pressure of those words weighed heavier than she cared to admit. Alan, ever the polished perforr, smiled dutifully, his hand resting lightly on Myra’s back.
Leandra concluded with a confident smile. "To all of you here tonight, thank you for your continued support and belief in the power of innovation. Together, we build not just a better tomorrow but a legacy that will endure for generations. Thank you."
Thunderous applause followed as Leandra stepped down from the podium. She exchanged a brief glance with Alan and Myra before making her way back to her seat.
Ephyra took another sip of champagne, her mind spinning with possibilities. She could sense the cracks forming in Alan and Myra’s carefully constructed image.
This ant that if she could, then others could too.
Malia leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Well, that was a speech. She’s impressive, isn’t she?"
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