Blanche's POV
My phone buzzed. Zain. I picked up immediately—couldn't risk Vincent stirring up more drama.
"Where are you?" His voice cut straight to the point.
Before I could answer, he added, "Grandpa sent me to get you."
I shot a glance at Vincent. The guy was drilling holes into me with his stare, resentment rolling off him in waves. Something cold crawled up my spine. For a split second, it looked like he was silently accusing me of betraying him.
Ridiculous. Why would he even care? We're practically strangers.
"I'll be right out," I said into the phone.
I hung up without explaining anything to Vincent and bolted toward the ballroom.
But the closer I got, the more wrong everything sounded. The noise from inside wasn't party chatter—it was chaos.
At the entrance, it hit me. Screaming. Panic. The crash of things being destroyed.
Something had gone seriously wrong in there.
The ballroom was my only way out, so I crept to the back door and peered through the crack.
