Nikolai

The ballroom was a glittering sea of deception, and I was its master.

I stood at the edge of the dance floor, my glass of wine untouched, my eyes scanning the crowd with the cold precision of a hunter tracking its prey. The music swelled around me, a symphony of strings and horns that masked the whispers of conspiracy that threaded through the room. Every face was a mask, every smile a weapon, and I had spent weeks learning which ones were pointed at my back.

Tonight, I would ...