The Elites

The Monte Riego mansion shimmered like a beacon of power under the moonlit sky. Tonight wasn't just a celebration of my victory—it was a showcase of the wealth, legacy, and influence my family had nurtured over centuries. The event buzzed with the presence of the elite from Pleasant Hills and beyond, all gathered under our roof, beneath the chandeliers that sparkled like stars above us.

As I stepped into the grand ballroom, the sheer elegance of the scene struck me. The walls were adorned with heavy drapery in deep shades of burgundy and gold, and the polished marble floors reflected the soft light from the crystal chandeliers. Everywhere I looked, there were designer gowns from the latest collections—Chanel, Valentino, Dior—clinging to women who moved gracefully through the room. The men were dressed in impeccable suits, Tom Ford and custom-made Italian designs, their quiet conversations carrying the weight of influence and money.

At the center of it all was my mother, Paula Monique Monte Riego, who commanded the room with effortless grace. She stood with her cousins in a circle of guests, wearing a regal sapphire gown that seemed to capture the light with every step she took. Her diamond necklace shimmered against her chest, and her smile—warm but measured—radiated the control she had over every aspect of the evening. Even in a room full of elites, my mother shone brightest.

"Seraphine," my mother called to me, her voice soft but carrying with ease through the low hum of conversations. "Come here, darling."

I approached, the silk of my emerald green gown flowing elegantly around me. It had taken hours of preparation, and yet, despite all the effort, the weight of the night hung heavily on my shoulders. Beneath the fabric, hidden from view, the key I had won in the competition felt heavier than ever.

"Everyone's eager to see you," my mother whispered as I reached her side. "This is your night, Seraphine."

Among the small circle stood Fiero Uno Salvatore, his dark, piercing eyes locking onto mine as I stepped into the group. He was a man of quiet authority, his tailored black suit perfectly cut to emphasize his tall, lean frame. There was an unspoken history between our families—old, secretive bonds that stretched back generations.

Fiero offered a small smile, though it barely touched his eyes. "Lady Monte Riego," he greeted my mother warmly, his deep voice commanding attention. "It's been too long. And Seraphine, congratulations on your win. Your family must be incredibly proud."

"Thank you, Mr. Salvatore," I replied, meeting his gaze with practiced calm.

Beside him stood Yvonne Salvatore, his sister, whose gown—a shimmering silver creation—reflected the soft candlelight. Her pale skin and striking beauty made her look otherworldly, as though she belonged in a Renaissance painting. Yvonne's crimson lips parted in a smile, her gaze sharp as it shifted between me and my mother.

"I've always said the Monte Riego family had an unmatched strength," Yvonne said, her voice velvety smooth. "You've certainly proven that tonight, Seraphine."

"You flatter us, Yvonne," my mother responded, her tone light but laced with something deeper. There was a shared understanding between them, a bond of secrets that they both upheld. "But we've always known the strength of the Salvatores, too."

There was an unspoken acknowledgment in their words. The Salvatores and Monte Riegos were more than just families tied by their stakes in Pleasant Hills—they shared something older, something deeper that lay hidden beneath the surface of polite conversation.

Kieran, standing near the edge of the group, caught my attention as always. Dressed in a sharp black suit, his dark hair slightly tousled, he exuded a quiet elegance that seemed to set him apart from the grandeur around us. His eyes found mine, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to fade away. There was a familiarity in his gaze, an understanding that ran deeper than words. He wasn't just watching me tonight—he was always watching.

"Seraphine," Kieran's voice broke through the hum of conversation, a soft, almost teasing lilt to it. "Enjoying the attention?"

I smiled, though my heart raced whenever he was near. "More than I expected."

Before I could dwell on it, Leonara Vervain appeared, her presence as soothing as ever. Dressed in a lilac gown that brought out the warmth in her complexion, she greeted me with a bright smile. I looked back to see if Kieran was still around but he was gone. Our exchange was brief, but it was enough to stir something unspoken between us—something we both understood but neither of us was ready to acknowledge.

"You're the star tonight," Leonara said, her voice carrying a gentle warmth. "Everyone's talking about your victory."

"Am I?" I replied with a light laugh, though the weight of the key beneath my gown reminded me that there was more to tonight than just a win.

Nearby, Dr. Mathilda Rafaela Vervain and Dr. Leviticus Ceasar Vervain, Leonara's parents, were engaged in conversation with my mother. The Vervains, known for their expertise in herbal medicine and their deep connection to the supernatural world, had always been close to my family. My mother had often turned to them for discreet assistance, and there was no doubt they held many of our secrets.

As I moved through the room, exchanging pleasantries with the other families, my gaze fell on Amelia Antoinette Thornstone and Alexis Warlock Thornstone. Dressed in dark, rich fabrics that matched their formidable reputation, the Thornstones exuded a cold elegance that made the air around them feel heavier. Their daughter, Lianne, stood beside them, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she caught sight of me.

"Lady Monte Riego," Amelia greeted my mother, her smile sharp and practiced. "This is quite the event. It seems Pleasant Hills will be talking about your family's strength for years to come."

"Indeed," my mother replied smoothly, her own smile never faltering. "Though I imagine the Thornstones will always find ways to keep the conversation interesting."

There was a brief silence between them, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. The rivalry between our families had always been there, veiled behind polite words and practiced smiles, but tonight it felt more palpable than ever.

"I'm sure we will," Alexis Thornstone added with a low chuckle. "Pleasant Hills has a way of keeping everyone on their toes, doesn't it?"

Kieran, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward then, his presence drawing the attention of the Thornstones. "The Monte Riegos are more than prepared for whatever comes next," he said, his voice calm but with an edge of warning.

I glanced at him, surprised by the protective tone in his voice, but before I could say more, Aliyah Salvatore joined us, her red gown flowing elegantly as she moved. She was beautiful in the way that made heads turn—striking and bold. But there was something calculated in her gaze as she looked between Kieran and me.

"The competition may be over," Aliyah said smoothly, her lips curving into a subtle smile. "But I have a feeling the real games are just beginning."

Her words hung in the air, a challenge hidden beneath the surface. But before the tension could rise further, I excused myself and slipped out onto the balcony for a moment of air.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief from the intensity of the ballroom. The soft lanterns lining the gardens below cast long, dancing shadows, and the distant sound of music felt muted against the stillness of the night.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the silence calm my nerves. But soon, I heard footsteps behind me.

"You always find the quiet spots," Kieran said softly, stepping out onto the balcony.

"I needed a moment," I replied, turning to face him.

He leaned against the railing beside me, his gaze distant as he looked out over the gardens. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"

I nodded, though I wasn't sure if he was talking about the celebration—or something else. "Do you ever get tired of it? The expectations, the games?"

Kieran turned to me then, his dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. "I don't mind the games. But I do get tired of watching you face them alone."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, though there was warmth in them too—something that made me feel both comforted and unsettled.

"You don't have to watch," I said quietly, unsure of what I was even implying.

Kieran's lips curved into a faint smile, but there was something more behind it—something deeper. "I'm not watching because I have to."

The air between us felt charged, filled with things neither of us was ready to say. But before I could respond, the soft sound of voices from the ballroom reminded me that we weren't alone.

"You should go back inside," Kieran said, his voice softer now. "There are still too many eyes on you tonight."

"Does it bother you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, I wasn't supposed to say it out loud but my tongue betrayed me, I saw a faint smirk on his face before he answered.

He leaned closer, I caught a hint of mint in his scent that reminded me of a cold summer night, cold, protective, but home. With his soft but stern voice, he spoke, "That's their problem, Seraphine. But does it bother you... if it bothers me?" The dark orbits of his eyes for a moment looked like they had the whole universe in them. 

My heart skipped a beat, and for the first time, I had no answer.