The lights blazed all around, men and women in luxurious attire mingled here, everywhere the swirl of perfume and elegant silhouettes, and the faint aroma of champagne was diffused in the air.
But to Cecilia Vaughn, none of this was particularly tempting—the reason she wanted to go inside early was simple: it was just too cold tonight.
Even though she was probably the girl dressed the warmest here, she still couldn't help but shiver, silently squeezing her palms to force herself to stand more upright and graceful.
—There was no alternative; since she was here, Cecilia Vaughn had to be mindful that this was a charity gala, so she could only try her best to maintain her composure and not leave herself open to ridicule.
...
Cecilia Vaughn handed over the gold-embossed invitation, fully expecting to be let in.
However, the tuxedoed guard kept eyeing the invitation with suspicion, finally looking at her with a puzzled expression.
