Unspoken Alliances

Lilia had no idea what had just happened. The sensation was unfamiliar yet hauntingly similar, a shadow of something she couldn't quite name. Was it the same feeling she had experienced before, or were her thoughts playing tricks on her again? The questions swirled relentlessly in her mind. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps it was nothing.

But she felt it.

Lilia shook her head and turned to walk back to her parents. The crowd blurred into a haze of color and noise, their laughter and chatter fading into the background as her thoughts consumed her.

She was just a few steps away when a hand grabbed her arm, yanking her aside with startling force.

Lilia blinked, startled, and found herself face-to-face with Sabrina. The grip on her arm was firm, almost bruising, but it was Sabrina's expression that truly caught her off guard. A faint smile played on Sabrina's lips, but it lacked warmth.

Sabrina's eyes gleamed, her gaze sharp and assessing. For a fleeting moment, something like jealousy flickered in their depths, but Lilia, too distracted by the whirlwind of emotions in her own mind, didn't notice.

"What did he tell you?" Sabrina asked, her voice sweet and laced with honey. Yet beneath the surface, it carried a dangerous edge, like the glint of a knife hidden beneath silk.

Lilia hesitated. Her throat felt dry, the words stuck in the back of her mouth. She didn't know what to say—or rather, she didn't want to say anything at all. The truth was, she was still grappling with herself, trying to find a logical explanation for why the strange sensation she'd felt that night had returned so vividly, unsettling her all over again.

"I…" she began, but the sentence withered before it could bloom.

Sabrina's eyes narrowed, her smile tightening. Her grip on Lilia's arm didn't loosen. "Why won't you tell me what he said?" she pressed, her tone losing its earlier sweetness. "Why keep secrets?"

Lilia tried to avert her gaze, but Sabrina wouldn't let her. The grip on her arm tightened, just enough to make her wince.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lilia whispered finally, her voice barely audible over the din of the masquerade.

But Sabrina wasn't convinced. Her smile faltered, and her voice dropped into a low mutter, the words meant more for herself than for Lilia.

"It's fine," she said bitterly. "Of course, he wouldn't choose her. If she can get him to ask for a dance so effortlessly, why can't I?"

The words hit Lilia like a slap, the venom in them impossible to miss. Her heart raced as she tried to process what Sabrina was saying. Jealousy dripped from every syllable, and for the first time, Lilia saw the raw envy etched into Sabrina's features.

But before she could respond, before the tension could escalate, a voice boomed across the room, cutting through the noise like a blade through fabric.

"Good evening, kings and queens, CEOs and dignitaries," the announcer said, his tone crisp and commanding. The crowd fell silent, all eyes turning toward the stage. "I am honored to introduce Mr. Lowell and Miss Lilia, who will be celebrating their engagement in two days."

The applause that followed was polite yet deafening, a calculated crescendo of approval. But Lilia didn't hear it. The words themselves were a tidal wave, crashing over her and leaving her paralyzed.

Engagement? What engagement?

Her mind reeled. Her body went rigid, her heart pounding in her chest like a frantic drumbeat. She hadn't been informed of anything like this. How could they announce something so monumental without her consent, without even telling her?

She turned toward Sabrina, hoping for some kind of explanation, but Sabrina merely smirked at her, the jealousy in her eyes now mingled with amusement. Clearly, Sabrina was enjoying the chaos, even if her expression betrayed a flicker of surprise at the announcement.

Lilia's gaze darted across the room, searching for her parents. Her mother stood near the center of the crowd, clapping along with the rest, her expression calm and composed. But there was no mistaking the calculating glint in her eyes.

Her mother's lips curved into a smile, but it was the kind of smile that concealed daggers. It felt like a noose tightening around Lilia's chest, each clap of her mother's hands another loop, drawing tighter and tighter.

"Lilia, don't do anything foolish," her mother whispered sharply, her voice carrying just enough force to slice through the applause.

Lilia wanted to scream, to demand answers, but the weight of her mother's gaze held her captive. She turned to her father, but his expression was no less forbidding. He stood across the room, his arms folded, his eyes stern and unyielding.

She was trapped.

Lowell approached her then, his stride confident and purposeful. His presence commanded the room, drawing every eye toward him. He stopped a few feet away from her and extended his hand, his smile polished to perfection.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and poised.

Lilia froze. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls pressing in from all sides. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. The whispers of the crowd buzzed in her ears like an angry hive, each one a reminder of the thousand eyes fixed on her.

Desperately, she searched the room for an escape, her gaze sweeping over the sea of faces. And then she saw him.

He sat in the VVIP section, his silver hair catching the dim light. He was still, unnervingly so, as though the chaos of the room had no power over him. His presence was magnetic, a stark contrast to the swirling noise around him.

Lilia's breath caught in her throat. Her gaze locked onto him, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded into nothingness. She didn't know why, but she couldn't look away.

Her mother's voice cut through her trance, sharp and impatient. "Lilia," she hissed, her tone a razor's edge. "Don't cause a scene."

Lilia's chest tightened, panic clawing at her insides. She glanced back at Lowell, whose hand remained outstretched, his expression expectant. The pressure was unbearable, the weight of everyone's expectations threatening to crush her.

And then, before she could stop herself, the words tumbled from her lips, a desperate attempt to regain control.

"I'm already engaged to him," she blurted, her voice trembling but defiant.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and every head turned in unison, following the direction of her pointed finger.

The silver-haired man.

Lilia's heart pounded in her chest as she realized what she had done. The room fell into a stunned silence, the kind that felt like the calm before a storm.

The man didn't move. His expression was unreadable, his eyes steady and unblinking. It was as though he had been expecting this moment all along, and his calmness unnerved her more than anything else.

Lowell froze, his hand dropping to his side. The composure he had so carefully maintained began to crack, his face paling as he processed Lilia's words.

Her parents were equally shaken. Her mother's smile vanished, replaced by a mask of fury barely concealed beneath her composed exterior. Her father's glare could have turned stone to dust.

Lilia's hands trembled, but she forced herself to stand tall. She couldn't back down now.

"As we all know," she said, her voice wavering but loud enough to carry across the room, "we already shared a dance, signifying the entry to our engagement."

The lie felt foreign on her tongue, but she clung to it like a lifeline.

All eyes shifted back to the silver-haired man, waiting for his response.

A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, cold and calculating.

"She said it all," he said, his voice low but resonant, shattering the silence like glass.

The words were simple, but they reverberated through the room, through Lilia's very bones. A shiver ran down her spine, and the breath she hadn't realized she was holding escaped in a shaky exhale.

Had she made a terrible mistake, or had she just saved herself from an even worse fate?