He turned and looked after Elodie as she walked away.

The man beside him frowned in confusion. “What is it, Mr. Aldridge?”

Up on the top deck, the engagement party was in full swing, glasses clinking and laughter echoing through the air.

It was the engagement of Mr. Harcourt, the CEO of TerraGreen Solutions-a grand affair, attended by a sizable crowd.

The atmosphere was already buzzing.

Elodie spotted Ivan across the room. Even on his engagement day, he looked utterly relaxed-one hand in his pocket, his expression brooding yet nonchalant. In contrast, Queenie by his side was all radiant excitement.

For some reason, Ivan glanced her way almost instantly.

In that moment, his gaze locked onto hers, a look both intense and challenging.

He flashed a smile-wry, a little mocking, and thoroughly unapologetic.

Elodie pretended not to notice, turning away, intent on finding Elias to see if he had arrived yet.

That’s when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Jarrod.

He was standing nearby, Sylvie at his side in an elegant gown, surrounded by a small circle of guests.

She wasn’t sure when they’d arrived.

Maybe it was her imagination, but Jarrod seemed to lift his lashes and glance at her—cool, distant, almost unrecognizable.

With the light behind him, he looked every inch the composed, self-assured figure of authority.

Elodie suddenly remembered that Sylvie and Queenie were close friends. Of course they’d both be here tonight.

She paid it no mind and slipped away toward Alexander and his group.

She recognized quite a few faces tonight.

Esmeralda had already made her rounds, adding half the room’s worth of contacts to her phone.

Alexander had just finished exchanging pleasantries with an acquaintance. “Don’t bother looking-Mr. Warwick didn’t show, but Naylor and his crew are all here.”

He motioned toward a corner, his tone sugary-sweet. “Your ex-husband and your oh-so-ambitious sister are deep in conversation. You’d think they were joined at the hip-someone might mistake them for siblings.”

Neural Intelligence was out poaching talent under the guise of ‘networking’; running into them at these events was inevitable.

Frankly, Alexander was being downright polite by not saying something sharper.

”

Elodie had no interest in looking their way.

She considered her last conversation with Naylor a definitive end to any pretense of civility.

From now on, even a polite façade seemed unnecessary.

Elias hadn’t come, but since she was here, she might as well make the best of it.

Naylor had noticed Elodie the moment he arrived.

Ever since the Warwick family’s birthday dinner, he’d grown increasingly frustrated.

He couldn’t understand it—what right did Elodie have to act so superior with him? As if she was too good for him!

He shot her a glare as he took a swig of his drink.

The engagement party itself was quite unconventional-a fresh concept, almost certainly Queenie’s idea.

Instead of the usual speeches, the evening kicked off with a lively dance.

Ivan, raised since childhood with Malcom’s brand of elite training, was in his element. He finished the first dance with Queenie effortlessly.

Queenie beamed with excitement. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining Ivan and me tonight. We’re so happy to be celebrating our engagement with all of you. I hope everyone here finds something special tonight-feel free to invite anyone who catches your eye out for a dance!”

Elodie kept her gaze away from the stage, choosing instead to sink into the corner beside Alexander.

She had no intention of joining the festivities.

Esmeralda nudged her and smirked. “Look over there.”

Elodie finally glanced up.

Sylvie was seated next to Jarrod.

Already, several men had approached her to ask for a dance.

Though all eyes were on her, Sylvie seemed perfectly at ease, gracefully curving her lips in a poised, practiced smile.

She glanced around, her eyes landing, almost absentmindedly, on Elodie, tucked away in her quiet corner.

The contrast couldn’t have been starker-Sylvie surrounded by admirers, Elodie nearly invisible.

Sylvie gave a silent, barely-there scoff before turning her attention back to Jarrod, whose arm was still recovering-he wouldn’t be dancing tonight.

With an affectionate, teasing smile, she leaned in and asked, “Jarrod, do you mind if I dance with someone else tonight?”

A few nearby guests exchanged knowing looks.

Clearly, she was seeking her boyfriend’s permission-worried, perhaps, that he’d be jealous.

Jarrod finally lifted his gaze, unhurried.

But before he could answer, an unfamiliar, gentle, and sincere voice rang out from across the room:

“Ms. Thorne, may I have the honor of this dance?”