The whispers in the grand ballroom grew louder as Isabelle politely declined Fred's dance offer.
"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Fred," she said smoothly, keeping her expression neutral, "but I came with Logan."
That single sentence was enough to send another wave of murmurs rippling through the crowd.
Some nodded approvingly.
"Well, of course, she'd choose Logan. He's more powerful than Fred."
"I'd do the same in her position."
But others scoffed, their eyes filled with disdain.
"She's smart. She won't just pick one—she's playing them both."
"She must be using her body to string them along."
Fred chuckled at the mixed reactions, his lips quirking into an almost lazy smirk.
"Of course," he said, raising his hands as if surrendering. "I'd never want to fight with Logan." His tone was laced with sarcasm, and his sharp eyes flicked towards Logan with something unreadable.
Then, with a final smirk, he stepped back, leaving Isabelle and Logan in the center of the attention.
