Ella
The transition from the basement’s cool, rustic ambiance to the vibrancy of the party was almost jarring. As Logan and I re-entered the ballroom, I was immediately struck by the whirl of colors, the soft strains of music, and the kaleidoscope of voices melding together in a symphony of laughter and chatter.
From the throng emerged a familiar face. Leonard Barrett, Logan’s father, with his steel-gray hair slicked back, and a tall, commanding presence. His piercing blue eyes, which Logan had apparently inherited, immediately locked onto mine.
I had met the man once before, and our encounter hadn't been the warmest. His reputation in the business world as a ruthless mogul was well-earned, but in person, it was his charisma that was truly overpowering.
“Ah, Ella,” Leonard
