They walked in through the towering glass doors, the hum of smooth jazz and soft clinking of glasses spilling into the lavish entrance hall. Almost immediately, a group of well-dressed men standing near the crimson-carpeted reception area took notice of them.
One of them, a distinguished figure clad in a pristine white suit and exuding old-money elegance, stepped forward with a warm but curious expression.
"Well, well… Mary," he said, his voice deep and measured, like someone used to being listened to. He extended his hand with casual grace. "It's been quite some time since we last saw you gracing this place—with Mr. Kieran, if I recall correctly."
Mary accepted his hand politely, and he leaned down, brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles with an air of playful chivalry.
She gave a small, dismissive smile. "I no longer belong to Kieran," she said coolly, her voice laced with finality. "We broke up a month ago."
