At first, the crowd didn't notice.
The arrival of another guest wasn't surprising. After all, the ball had just begun, and many of the world's most powerful individuals were still making their entrances. The ballroom, grand enough to swallow entire palaces, was alive with an orchestra of whispers, laughter, and the soft clinking of crystal glasses.
But then—
A presence.
A ripple in the air.
A shiver of awareness ran through the attendees, like a shadow passing over the sun.
People turned. Eyes widened. Conversations died mid-sentence.
The moment Vincent Blackwood stepped past the towering golden doors of the ballroom, the air itself seemed to grow thick.
And then, silence.
Complete. Utter. Silence.
Every movement—frozen. Every breath—held.
It was unbelievable. It was impossible.
The world knew Vincent Blackwood.
They had watched him rise.
They had worshipped him as an idol.
They had adored him as an actor.
But none of them had ever expected to see him here.
Because this was not his world.
Or so they had thought.