Chapter 25: Alistair, Let’s Just Leave It at This

The grand ballroom was a spectacle of light, with crystal chandeliers casting a brilliant glow that made the entire hall feel like a dream.

Guests in magnificent evening wear gathered in small groups, their soft conversations punctuated by the crisp clinking of champagne flutes.

On the stage, the band was conducting final checks, musicians focused on tuning their instruments in preparation for the evening's festivities.

The emcee stepped onto the stage and cleared his throat, his voice projecting through the microphone to every corner of the room: "Distinguished guests, welcome to tonight’s banquet. To open our gala, please welcome Master Julian and Miss Clara of the Jian family to the floor for the opening waltz."

Clara was dressed in a white, off-the-shoulder evening gown. Her skirt was as light and ethereal as a blooming flower, and the diamond belt at her waist shimmered brilliantly under the lights.

Her hair was elegantly pinned up, with a few stray locks falling against her snowy neck, adding a touch of allure to her grace.

Julian, tall and poised in a slim-fit black suit, exuded the effortless charm of a true gentleman.

The two walked onto the dance floor hand-in-hand, drawing every eye in the room.

As the music began to swell, Clara and Julian offered a slight bow before stepping into an elegant embrace.

Their movements were light and fluid, drifting across the floor in perfect harmony with the rhythm.

Clara’s face beamed with a confident smile, her eyes bright and captivating as she moved in perfect sync with Julian. Every spin and every gesture was executed with flawless precision.

The guests fell silent, mesmerized by the beautiful performance, occasionally murmuring expressions of admiration.

Standing to the side, Mia wore a tight-fitting red dress that accentuated her curves.

She had expected to be the star of the opening dance, never imagining that Clara and Julian would be the ones to take the floor.

Watching the radiant Clara in the center of the room, the fires of jealousy in Mia’s heart flared up once again.

She bit her lip, muttering inwardly:

Clara, you’re just lucky.

As the song ended, thunderous applause erupted.

Clara and Julian bowed to the crowd before slowly stepping off the floor.

Seeing her chance, Mia straightened her skirt and walked toward Alistair Vance with a confident stride.

Alistair had changed into a different black suit, his white shirt slightly open at the collar to reveal his sharp collarbone. His gaze was deep and intoxicating as he stood watching the crowd.

"Brother Alistair, would you do me the honor of dancing the next set with me?"

Mia reached him with a sweet smile and a soft, melodic voice.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement.

Alistair glanced at her and took a sip of his drink. "I’m not in the mood for dancing tonight."

His voice was devoid of emotion, but to Mia, it felt like a sharp blade piercing her heart.

The smile froze on her face. She stared at Alistair in disbelief, her heart flooded with a wave of loss and fury.

"Brother Alistair... why... why are you rejecting me?"

Mia’s voice trembled, and her eyes began to redden.

She couldn't understand why he would turn her down. In her mind, after dressing so carefully for him tonight, she deserved his undivided attention.

Alistair frowned slightly. He had no intention of offering a long explanation and simply turned to walk away.

Mia stood frozen, lost and humiliated as the gazes of the surrounding guests turned toward her.

She grit her teeth, her resentment toward Clara deepening even further. She felt that everything was Clara’s fault; if not for her, Alistair would never treat her this way.

Just as Mia was consumed by her anger, the music for the second dance began.

It was a faster-paced waltz, the melody cheerful and lively.

Alistair’s eyes searched the crowd. The moment he spotted Clara, his gaze lit up instantly.

He crossed the room without hesitation, heading straight for her.

Clara was chatting with Julian. When she saw Alistair approaching, she was briefly startled and looked up at him instinctively.

"Little Swan, would you do me the honor of this dance?"

Alistair reached her and held out his hand.

Just as Clara was about to take it, Julian grabbed her other hand firmly, looking at Alistair with a defensive glare.

"I think not. Hasn't Master Vance already 'hidden a beauty' away in his private chambers?"

Julian’s words were laced with heavy sarcasm, causing the approaching Silas Knight to pause in his tracks.

Silas had been downstairs chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Jian, missing the drama that had unfolded earlier.

"Julian..."

Clara whispered pleadingly. Julian, unable to resist her acting, sighed and relented. "Fine, you can dance. But only one set. Alistair, meet me for a 'match' once the banquet is over."

A match? For what?

Before Clara could process the words, Alistair had already seized her hand and pulled her onto the floor.

Clara’s hand rested lightly on Alistair’s shoulder, her fingertips feeling slightly cold.

Alistair’s palm pressed against her waist, the warmth radiating through the thin fabric and making her shift uncomfortably.

In the center of the floor, under the soft lights and soaring music, the two spun in a perfect waltz, as if the rest of the world had vanished.

"You look beautiful tonight."

Alistair’s low, raspy voice whispered in her ear, tinged with a faint, knowing smile.

Clara looked up, meeting those deep-set eyes, and felt her heart skip several beats.

She quickly looked down, attempting to sound composed: "Thank you, Mr. Vance."

"Mr. Vance?" Alistair arched an eyebrow, his tone dissatisfied. "Since when are we so formal?"

Clara bit her lip and said nothing.

She knew what he was getting at, so she simply lowered her gaze in silence.

"Clara," Alistair’s voice dropped lower, carrying a hint of a test. "Is this really all we can be?"

Clara’s footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second before she regained the rhythm.

She took a deep breath, her voice calm but firm: "Alistair, a friendship between us is enough. Anything else... would just bring trouble."

Alistair’s face darkened the moment the words left her mouth.

His grip on her waist tightened instinctively. Feeling the pressure, Clara couldn't help but frown.

"Trouble?" His voice turned cold, laced with suppressed fury. "What kind of 'trouble' are you talking about? Or are you simply too afraid to face your own heart?"

Clara’s heart shuddered, but she still refused to look up.

"Alistair, don't be like this." Her voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. "Let's... leave it at this."

Alistair stopped moving. The music continued, but their dance came to a jarring halt.

He released her and took a step back, his dark gaze pinned on her as if trying to look through her soul.

"Escape has always been your weapon of choice."

Clara stood where she was, her fingers clutching her skirt until her knuckles turned white.

But she knew the logic of the game: you have to sacrifice something to catch the wolf.

"I’m sorry."