The ballroom shimmered with an opulent glow, a testament to the Campbell family's influence. Crystal chandeliers cast diamond light onto impeccably dressed guests, their hushed conversations a symphony of ambition and social maneuvering. Every eye seemed to gravitate towards Ayden Campbell, the formidable CEO whose return was the evening's grand occasion.

Yet, in a shadowed corner, a woman stood apart. Eleana Davis, clad in a sleek black gown, her dark blue eyes holding an emptiness that belied the vibrant scene. Her gaze was fixed on Ayden, not with longing, but with a quiet, bitter recognition. Beside him, Natasha, her cousin, smiled, radiating an innocent beauty that felt like a sharp, deliberate contrast to Eleana's own reflection.

The engagement, two weeks broken, echoed in the silent space between them. Eleana swallowed the pain, a familiar ache in her chest. She watched as Ayden bent slightly, a rare, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips as Natasha whispered something to him. They looked perfect together, a cruel mockery of what once was.

Turning away, Eleana found a passing waiter, taking a glass of wine and draining it in one defiant gulp. The red liquid felt like fire, a temporary distraction from the raw wound in her heart. She was the devil in black, Natasha the angel in white. The irony was a bitter taste. Just then, a warm, familiar voice cut through the hum of the party.

"Elea! You are here! I have been looking for you in the whole room."