The morning sun streamed through the grand windows of the L'Amour Élite headquarters, casting a golden glow over the pristine marble floors. The venue, an opulent Parisian ballroom repurposed for matchmaking, was buzzing with excited chatter. The air smelled of expensive cologne, fresh roses, and the rich aroma of pastries being served at the morning briefing.
Ava, sipping on her second cup of espresso, was doing her best to suppress an eye-roll as Margaux Duval, the ever-glamorous host, took center stage. The woman exuded effortless grace, dressed in an ivory silk ensemble that probably cost more than Ava's entire wardrobe combined.
Ryan, sitting beside Ava, leaned over with a smirk. "Bet you a box of macarons that Julian does something dramatic within the next five minutes."
Ava smirked but kept her eyes on Margaux. "I'm not taking that bet. We both know Julian thrives on theatrics."