"What a lively party. Sorry to interrupt things, but we are here to give Young Master Leo a present." The voice cut through the chatter like a blade through silk.
Every head snapped toward the entrance.
Four figures stood there—masked, silent, unmoving—scanning the crowd with cold precision.
A wave of confusion rippled through the room.NGasps echoed. Eyes narrowed. Whispers swirled like smoke.
Who wears a mask to Young Master Leo's party? This wasn't just arrogance—it was provocation.
When Leo laid eyes on the four, something shifted in his expression. He didn't recognize them, but his instincts screamed at him—they were dangerous.
A powerful, suffocating aura pulsed from them.
"What do you mean by wearing a mask to a party of Young Master Leo?" someone from the crowd snapped.
Others quickly joined in, unleashing a storm of insults at Drake and his companions.
But Drake? He just chuckled.
"Even the Young Master I was speaking to hasn't responded," he said, his tone mocking.
