Chapter 137
Beatrice let herself be pulled along, both amused and exasperated, though she didn't resist. Elsie followed beside them, a smile playing at her lips, clearly enjoying the unfolding spectacle.
The male staff throughout the grand hall knew their roles perfectly. Each stood tall with impeccable posture and handsome features, dressed in identical black suits as they moved among the guests—mixing drinks, guiding visitors, or simply standing attentively nearby. Every gesture radiated well-trained charisma that didn't go unnoticed.
Several female guests had already begun participating, giggling as they placed small red flowers on the chests of their chosen men, prompting good-natured teasing from onlookers.
Hilary surveyed the room like a queen inspecting her domain. Her critical gaze swept across everyone until she finally locked onto a man elegantly mixing cocktails behind the bar. He had striking bedroom eyes that met Hilary's gaze across the crowd, offering her a polite smile.
"That's the one!" Hilary marched over with confident determination and placed her red flower on his chest. "I've got my eye on you, sir."
The bartender looked startled for a moment before his smile widened. "Thank you for the honor, miss."
Elsie took a more casual approach, giving her flower to a security guard who had just intercepted a drunk guest on her behalf. The guard instantly blushed and stood even straighter.
Beatrice held her three red flowers, hesitating as she watched the entertaining scene with genuine curiosity. Her gaze wandered unconsciously through the crowd, passing over the attentive staff members until finally settling on a man standing in the corner.
Unlike the staff, he wore a perfectly tailored dark gray suit. Tall and commanding, he stood quietly in the shadows, emanating a calm presence that seemed completely separate from the surrounding atmosphere.
He too wore a mask—the simplest black design covering only the upper half of his face, revealing a tense jawline and thin lips. He made no effort to interact with the female guests like the other men, nor did he try to attract anyone's attention.
He simply leaned against a pillar, holding a glass of whiskey, watching the dance floor with detached eyes—like an observer who wasn't part of the proceedings. Yet it was precisely this aloofness that made him the most distinctive presence in the room.
As if possessed, Beatrice found herself walking toward him.
Hilary was busy debating with Elsie about which man had the better physique when she realized Beatrice had disappeared. When they spotted her again, she was approaching the most intimidating "ice mountain" in the entire room.
"Holy crap," Hilary nudged Elsie, "Bea's got game! She doesn't make a move often, but when she does, she goes for the most unapproachable one!"
Elsie's expression grew complicated. "But... he doesn't look like he works here. Did Bea misunderstand the rules?" The man looked more like a guest.
He seemed to sense Beatrice approaching and turned his head, his gaze falling on her. His eyes were deep and scrutinizing, causing Beatrice to falter slightly. She stopped in front of him, saying nothing. Under his questioning stare, Beatrice raised her hand and methodically placed all three of her red flowers—one, two, three—neatly on his immaculate suit jacket.
Having completed what felt like an important ritual, or perhaps like a child who'd just pulled off a prank, she tilted her chin slightly upward. Behind her mask, her eyes sparkled with mischief and subtle delight.
The man appeared stunned. He looked down at the three red flowers on his chest, then back up at Beatrice with an expression that had become complex and unreadable behind his mask.
Beatrice didn't give him time to respond. After admiring her "masterpiece" with satisfaction, she turned and walked gracefully back to Hilary amid a chorus of gasps and exclamations.
"Bea! My god!" Hilary grabbed her, nearly jumping with excitement. "Three flowers! You gave him all three! You basically just fast-tracked him to superstardom!"
Beatrice laughed as Hilary shook her, feeling a long-forgotten sense of carefree joy bubbling up inside her.
Meanwhile, in the shadowed corner, Frederick stared at the three childish, garish red flowers on his chest, then glanced at the woman now laughing with her friends. The atmosphere around him grew increasingly tense as his fingers tightened around his glass.
Ariana descended the spiral staircase from the second floor, her face ashen. She had just been mocked by her so-called friends, who had now dispersed, leaving her alone feeling humiliated and insecure. She had intended to visit the restroom to compose herself, but from the staircase landing, she had a perfect view of the scene below.
Even with a mask, Beatrice's tall, slender figure was unmistakable. She had confidently approached a man and generously placed all her red flowers—symbols of admiration—on him. Ariana's nails dug deep into her palm.
So this was Beatrice's true nature. Acting proper and dignified upstairs, humiliating her endlessly, then coming downstairs to flirt with other men. Did Frederick know?
A twisted smile formed on Ariana's pale face, fueled by a mix of humiliation and vindictive satisfaction. She took out her phone and aimed it at the scene, but the distance was too great and the lighting too dim. The man's figure was mostly hidden by the pillar's shadow, making it impossible to capture clearly.
Reluctantly lowering her phone, Ariana was about to head downstairs for a closer look when a flirtatious male voice spoke behind her.
"Sneaking photos is so boring. Why not join the fun?"
Ariana turned to see an elegantly dressed man, causing her to temper her expression. She didn't recognize him.
"Sorry, I thought that man was a friend of mine," she lied smoothly.
Lucas Stuart's gaze swept over her before gesturing meaningfully toward the dance floor below. "Don't bother—today's prize catch has probably already been claimed by that lady."
Following his gaze, Ariana saw Beatrice's friend pointing at the man in the corner, laughing uncontrollably. The fire inside her burned hotter, though she feigned confusion. "You're joking. It's just a game—there's no 'prize catch.'"
Lucas wagged his finger with a "you're so naive" expression. "It's a game, sure, but someone's playing for keeps. Giving all three flowers to one person shows serious interest. However..." His tone shifted as he squinted at the shadowy figure in the corner, his expression turning peculiar. "That man looks oddly familiar."
Without waiting for Ariana's response, he eagerly bounded down the stairs, heading straight toward the corner.
In the hall, Elsie sipped her fruit juice while watching with interest. "That gentleman appears to be coming over," she said softly.
Beatrice's heart skipped a beat as she instinctively looked in that direction.