Ethan stood near the entrance, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He wasn’t used to this kind of scene, and the presence of Dante, who lingered a few feet away, only added to his discomfort.  

“You know,” Claire said, appearing at his side with a cocktail in hand, “you could at least try to look like you’re having fun.”  

Ethan forced a smile. “I’m trying. It’s just… not really my thing.”  

Claire smirked, her eyes scanning the room. “Well, try harder. This place is amazing, and Mia’s clearly gone all out.”  

As if on cue, Mia appeared, her face glowing with excitement. “You made it!” she said, pulling Ethan into a quick hug. “I was worried you’d bail.”  

“I said I’d come, didn’t I?” Ethan replied, though his tone was more resigned than enthusiastic.  Mia laughed, linking her arm through his. “Come on, let me show you around. You too, Claire.”  As they moved through the crowd, Ethan couldn’t help but notice the way people looked at him—some with curiosity, others with thinly veiled judgment. He was used to it, but tonight it felt more pronounced, as if the weight of his family name was pressing down on him harder than usual.

  

Mia led them to the rooftop, where the party was in full swing. The space was breathtaking—a sprawling terrace with a glowing infinity pool, cozy seating areas, and a panoramic view of the city skyline. A DJ was spinning tracks, and the air was filled with laughter and the clink of glasses.  “This is incredible,” Claire said, her eyes wide as she took it all in.  

Mia beamed. “I know, right? I wanted this to be a night to remember.”  

Ethan glanced around, his unease growing. The crowd was a mix of interns, industry insiders, and what looked like a few minor celebrities. He felt out of place, like he didn’t belong.  

“Hey,” Mia said, nudging him gently. “Relax. You’re among friends here.”  

Ethan nodded, though his eyes kept drifting to Dante, who was standing near the entrance to the rooftop, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd.  

As the night wore on, Ethan found himself pulled into a conversation with a group of interns. They were discussing the *Luxe Noir* campaign, their voices animated and their ideas flowing freely.  

“What if we did something completely unexpected?” one of them said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Like, instead of focusing on the fragrance itself, we focus on the feeling it evokes.”  

Ethan nodded, his interest piqued. “That’s not a bad idea. We could create a narrative that’s more about the experience than the product.”  

The group fell into a lively discussion, and for a moment, Ethan forgot about the tension that had been weighing on him. But as the conversation continued, he noticed a man standing at the edge of the rooftop, his eyes fixed on Ethan.  The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with a face that was hard to read. He wasn’t part of the party—Ethan was sure of that. There was something about him that felt… off.  Ethan excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to Dante, who was still standing near the entrance.  

“That guy over there,” Ethan said, nodding toward the man. “Do you know him?”  

Dante followed his gaze, his expression hardening. “No. But I’ll handle it.”  

Before Ethan could respond, Dante was already moving, his movements smooth and deliberate. Ethan watched as Dante approached the man, their conversation brief but intense. After a moment, the man nodded and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.  

Ethan felt a flicker of unease. “What was that about?” Dante turned to him, his expression unreadable. “Nothing to worry about. Just someone who got lost.”  

Ethan didn’t believe him, but before he could press further, Claire appeared, her face flushed with excitement.  

“Ethan, you have to try the signature cocktail,” she said, holding out a glass. “It’s amazing.”  

Ethan forced a smile, taking the glass. “Thanks.”  

As he sipped the drink, his eyes drifted back to where the man had been standing. The unease lingered, a shadow he couldn’t shake.  

Later in the evening, as the party began to wind down, Ethan found himself alone on the rooftop, staring out at the city skyline. The music had faded to a low hum, and the crowd had thinned, leaving the space quiet and serene.  

“You okay?”  

Ethan turned to see Mia standing behind him, her expression concerned.  

“Yeah,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “Just… thinking.”  

Mia stepped closer, her eyes searching his face. “You know, you don’t have to carry everything on your own. Whatever’s going on, you’ve got people who care about you.”  

Ethan nodded, though he didn’t respond. His mind was still on the man from earlier, on Dante’s cryptic response, on the growing sense that something was very wrong.  

As he looked out at the city, a text notification buzzed on his phone. He pulled it out, his heart skipping a beat as he read the message:  

**Unknown Number:** *You’re not as safe as you think you are.*  

Ethan stared at the screen, his blood running cold.