Kristen shot Cameron a quick, nervous look, her fingers tightening around Clive’s arm.
Amelia turned away, face unreadable. Since there was no way out now, she almost wished the sprinklers would go off even harder—maybe drench everyone so badly the party would end. That would serve them right.
Her eyes drifted up to the second-floor balcony and caught the shadows of two men standing in the corner. The way the lights and glass were set up, people upstairs could see everything happening below, but from the first floor, you could only make out blurry outlines—never anyone’s face.
Something about the guy in front made Amelia’s heart skip. He looked oddly familiar. And somehow, she had the feeling he was staring right back at her.
Meanwhile, the host—who doubled as the floor manager—had completely lost his cool. He was practically tripping over himself to apologize, calling for staff to rush in with towels, and yelling at the tech crew to fix it. After a few frantic minutes, the sprinklers finally shut off, but the damage was done. Everyone was at least a little wet.
Amelia couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Maybe karma did exist, because the timing of that sprinkler “malfunction” was perfect.
When she looked back at the second floor, the two men were already gone.
Just then, a technician hurried over to the host and whispered something. The host’s face turned ghostly pale.
“What happened?” Cameron demanded, wiping water off his forehead, scowling.
The host was sweating through his suit. “I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Henson. The fire system just glitched out, but it’s fixed now. I promise it won’t happen again!”



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