Chapitre 101: Perfect Wife

Suddenly, a beautiful chime sounds from atop the skyscraper, signaling that the grand hall is now open and the party is about to start. 

As I exit the food table and step into the grand hall, palpable tension fills the room. The eyes of everyone in attendance train on me—especially those who have placed bets on where I'll sit. The air shimmers with their collective scrutiny, a web of hopes and guesses entangling me as I move.

As soon as a manager catches sight of me, he hurries over with graceful urgency, his coattails fluttering behind him. He extends a gloved hand toward me, guiding me through the throng to my designated seat.

I glide past the Class 1 individuals; their whispers turn into a crescendo of murmurs, questions echoing like ripples on a pond. Faces swivel in my direction, a blend of curiosity and speculation.