Rebirth: Love me Again

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BONUS

Chapter

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The Grand Plaza Hotel's ballroom was a sight to behold, its opulence overwhelming even the most seasoned guests.

Towering chandeliers adorned with thousands of glimmering crystals bathed the room in a warm, golden light, casting a glow that danced across the marble floors.

The hall was massive, with high arched ceilings embellished with intricate gold leaf designs, reminiscent of European palaces. Every detail, from the velvet drapes cascading down the walls to the polished mahogany tables, exuded extravagance.

Long, gleaming banquet tables stretched across the space, laden with the finest gourmet selections from across the globe.

Each table was a symphony of color and taste—delicate hors d'oeuvres, like caviar atop hand-crafted blinis, shared space with towering displays of fresh seafood, including lobster tails and oysters served on beds of crushed ice.

A carving station showcased wagyu beef, seared to perfection, with chefs carving thin, melt-in-your-mouth slices for eager attendees.

For dessert, an entire table was dedicated to a stunning array of intricately designed cakes, macarons, and pastries, each one a miniature work of art.

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The air was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the occasional tinkling of champagne glasses. Waiters in crisp black uniforms wove seamlessly through the crowd, carrying silver trays with flutes of Dom Pérignon and expertly crafted cocktails.

The scent of the floral arrangements—white lilies, orchids, and roses—mingled with the rich aroma of the decadent food, creating an intoxicating ambiance.

Everywhere you looked, people were draped in the most exquisite designer garments. Women glided through the ballroom in floor-length gowns of silk and satin, their dresses adorned with glittering jewels and embroidery from the likes of Chanel, Dior, and Valentino.

Their accessories sparkled just as much, with diamonds and pearls catching the light at every turn. The men were equally as sharp, wearing tailored tuxedos from Savile Row, with sleek silk ties and polished leather shoes that clicked softly against the marble.

In one corner, a string quartet played an elegant waltz, their music adding to the sophistication of the evening. Nearby, a group of high-profile guests, billionaires and celebrities, chatted quietly, their laughter soft but full of influence.

It was a gathering of the elite, where every handshake carried weight, and every smile hinted at a deal waiting to be struck.

"It seems the Rosettes spared no expense for their heiress' eighteenth birthday," a woman murmured in awe, her gaze sweeping across the grand ballroom.

"They must have spent a billion on this celebration," another voice added, laced with envy.

"I heard the dress alone cost over a hundred million, not to mention the cake," someone whispered with disbelief.

"Well, you know what they say," a gentleman chimed in, adjusting the cufflinks on his tailored tuxedo. "Eighteen is the age of marriage and the formal introduction to high society. If the presentation is anything less than perfect, no eligible bachelor will seek her hand. The ladies of high society would sneer down on her."

There was a ripple of agreement. "A young lady's eighteenth birthday is crucial," another said. "The success of her debut will dictate her future prospects, after all."

The words, though spoken in hushed tones, echoed the thoughts of many in the room. Lavish as it was, this event was not merely a birthday celebration—it was a strategic move.

But despite the grandeur and attention lavished on the Rosette heiress, most of the elite gathered here for another reason entirely. It wasn't Sophie's coming of age that truly drew them to the event, but the looming presence of the family patriarch, Sinclair Rosette.

Sinclair was the true backbone of the Rosette empire, and his supposed attendance was the reason the most powerful figures from around the world were gathered tonight.

Whether as a sign of respect for the old man or a subtle bid to secure business ties for the future, each guest's presence was an intricate dance of power and politics.

Still, Sullivan and Sophia basked in the praise directed at them for hosting such a grand and successful affair. Every compliment, every nod of approval, was fuel for their ambitions.

The evening was not just a celebration—it was an opportunity.

For Sullivan, it was a chance to bolster his own company, to reel in clients from the Rosette Corporation and quietly entice them into his growing empire.

Each conversation he held was calculated, each handshake a potential business transaction in disguise. His eyes flickered with satisfaction as he noted the interest sparked in some of the more influential guests.

This event was a masterstroke in expanding his reach, solidifying his place among the upper echelons of power.

Sophia, however, had a different goal. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd until they settled on Cole Fay. He stood near the side of the ballroom, mingling with other young elites, his presence commanding attention.

His family—Cain Fay, the renowned mogul, and his beautiful wife Leanna—were elsewhere, charming the guests with effortless grace.

Marrying into the Fay family was every socialite's dream—a golden ticket to untold wealth, power, and prestige.

And tonight, all eyes in the grand ballroom were fixed on Cole Fay, the most desirable bachelor in the room.

To the young maidens of high society, he was more than just a man; he was an emblem of status, the key to a future draped in luxury until the end of the world.

But despite the lingering gazes and unspoken desires that hung heavy in the air, there was an invisible barrier around him, an impenetrable wall that kept the eager women at bay.

Cole stood tall in his crisp white suit, exuding an aura of cold detachment that made even the boldest of hearts hesitate. His sharp eyes, a mirror of his father's, could slice through the bravest soul with a single look, sending would-be suitors scurrying back into the shadows.

Though he was undeniably the centerpiece of the room, there was something untouchable about him, something that repelled the advances of those who longed to be near.

His reputation for a sharp tongue and indifferent attitude was well-known, and it matched the cold arrogance of his father, Cain Fay.