The Grand Hall was alive with noise and movement. Laughter echoed through the large space, mingling with the soft clink of glasses and the low hum of conversation. The brothel girls moved gracefully around the room, keeping the men entertained with flirtatious touches and coy smiles.
At the center of it all, Raphael stood with a confident air, his easy charm making him the focus of attention. He held a glass of wine in one hand, his sharp eyes scanning the room as he kept track of the evening’s events.
One of the older gentlemen, a tall man with graying hair and a commanding presence, approached Raphael with a curious expression. “Raphael,” the man said, his voice deep and smooth, “I haven’t seen Damian for a while now. Where is he?”
Raphael’s lips curved into a relaxed smile, though his mind raced to come up with an answer. “Ah, you know my brother,” he said casually, taking a sip of his wine. “Always busy, always working.”
The older man raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the response. “Working? At a time like this? This is his event, after all. Shouldn’t he be here?”
Raphael chuckled lightly, brushing off the concern with a wave of his hand. “Trust me, Damian’s handling things in his own way,” he said smoothly. “He’s… finalizing some details for our next big deal. You know how he is-always thinking ahead.”
Another guest, a younger man with a mischievous grin, joined the conversation. “Finalizing details? Or avoiding the party?” he joked, earning a few laughs from the men around him.
Raphael smiled, though his eyes sharpened slightly. “Damian never avoids anything,” he said firmly. “He’s the reason we’re all here tonight, after all.”
The older gentleman nodded slowly, though his expression remained skeptical. “Still,” he said, “it’s strange for him to leave his own party. I hope he’s not unwell.”
Raphael’s smile didn’t waver. “I assure you, he’s fine,” he said confidently. “He just has a lot on his mind. But don’t worry-I’m here to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
The younger man clapped Raphael on the shoulder, grinning. “Well, if you’re in charge, I’m sure we’ll have a great time. Let’s drink to that!”
The group laughed and raised their glasses, the tension easing as Raphael’s charm worked its magic. But as the men returned to their conversations, Raphael’s smile faded slightly.
He stepped away from the crowd, his mind turning to Damian. “What’s really going on with you, brother?” he muttered under his breath.
Meanwhile, at another table, a group of guests whispered among themselves, their curiosity about Damian growing.
“Have you noticed he hasn’t come back out?” one man asked, glancing around the room.
“Yes,” another agreed, lowering his voice. “It’s not like Damian to disappear like this. He’s usually the center of attention at these events.”
A third guest, a woman with sharp eyes and a knowing smile, leaned in closer. “Maybe he’s busy with something… or someone,” she said, her tone teasing.
The men chuckled, though their laughter held a note of uncertainty.
Madam Catherine, standing nearby, overheard the whispers and decided to step in. She approached the group with a warm smile, her hands clasped neatly in front of her.
“Gentlemen, is everything to your satisfaction?” she asked politely.
The first man nodded, though his expression was still curious. “Yes, everything is fine. But we were just wondering-do you know where Damian is? It’s not like him to vanish like this.”
Madam Catherine’s smile didn’t falter. “Mr. Wolfe is attending to some important matters,” she said smoothly. “But he has entrusted his brother to ensure the evening goes perfectly.”
The woman tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Important matters? At this hour? That seems unusual.”
Madam Catherine’s gaze was calm, her tone steady. “Mr. Wolfe is a man of many responsibilities,” she said simply. “But rest assured, he always puts his guests first.”
The group exchanged glances, their curiosity not entirely satisfied, but they didn’t press further.
Back near the main entrance, Raphael was approached by another guest-a younger woman with striking features and an air of confidence.
“Raphael,” she said, her voice smooth and honeyed. “What’s this I hear about Damian being too busy to join us?”
Raphael turned to her with his signature smile. “Ah, Cassandra,” he said warmly. “You know my brother-always juggling a thousand things at once.”
Cassandra raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “And here I thought nothing could pull Damian away from his guests.”
Raphael chuckled lightly. “Trust me, if it weren’t important, he’d be here.”
Cassandra’s eyes gleamed with interest as she stepped closer. “And what about you, Raphael? Are you juggling a thousand things too, or do you have time for your guests?”
Raphael’s smile widened, his charm on full display. “For you, Cassandra? I always have time.”
She laughed softly, her hand brushing against his arm. “Good answer,” she said, her voice teasing. “But I’d still like to see Damian before the night is over.”
“We’ll see,” Raphael said smoothly, though his mind was already working on how to keep her and the other guests distracted.
As the night went on, Raphael moved through the room, his presence keeping the mood light and the guests entertained. He raised a glass with one group, exchanged jokes with another, and made sure the brothel girls were keeping the men occupied.
But even as he laughed and chatted, his thoughts kept drifting back to Damian. Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t show his concern. Not here, not now.