She grew up spoiled by her older brother, who gradually climbed to the top of an art and antiquities trafficking network to ensure their survival after the death of their parents. She is the thing he treasures most. That’s why he entrusted his best friend, Lazare, with watching over her in his stead when former associates began threatening him, making any public appearance with her too dangerous.

As they arrive at the prom avenue, her prom date is already waiting at the entrance, visibly impatient. Barely a few minutes after stepping through the door, he sweeps her into a whirlwind of movement, their steps syncing with the pounding rhythm from the speakers. Entranced by the boundless energy in the room, she lets herself be carried away, her radiant smile reflecting the electric excitement of the crowd.

She quickly forgets Lazare’s unyielding gaze, tracking her every move from a shadowy corner of the room. Standing at the bar in a casual posture, his towering frame dominates the high schoolers crowd, exposing his face clenched.

An hour passes, and after an intimate slow dance, her partner promises to return soon, leaving for a quick trip to the restroom. As the minutes drag on, her eyes scan the room in search of her accompanist, to no avail. The bar is now empty, and just as she turns her gaze back to the dance floor, she sees him rushing straight toward her.

He grabs her arm abruptly, his grip firm enough to hurt, and pulls her toward the exit. “We’re leaving,” he snaps, his tone sharp and commanding. His voice cracks like a whip, cutting through the air between them. “W-what?” she stammers, bewildered by the sudden shift in mood. “But the night isn’t over! What’s gotten into you? I can’t leave now! I need to at least tell my date!” she protests, struggling against him as he drags her onto the manor’s gravel driveway, heading for his car.

“Your date won't come back.” Each word drops like a hammer, crushing any hope of reply