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The grand ballroom of the Remington Estate gleamed with opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light across marble floors, while tuxedo-clad waiters weaved seamlessly through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne. New York's elite had gathered here tonight, as they always did for the Remington Foundation's annual charity gala. The air buzzed with polite laughter, clinking glasses, and the subtle undertone of deals being brokered in hushed corners.
Andrew Remington stood near the edge of the room, surveying the event with practiced ease. At 28, he was well-accustomed to the demands of being a Remington. His tailored midnight-blue tuxedo fit him perfectly, and his smile, though warm, held a hint of boredom. This event was as much about networking as philanthropy, and tonight was no different. Yet, something about the evening felt charged, as if the air itself held a secret waiting to be revealed.
His attention shifted as the crowd seemed to part, almost instinctively, making way for a woman. She was unlike anyone he had seen before-a striking brunette in an elegant crimson gown that clung to her figure with an effortless grace. Her presence commanded attention, yet there was an air of mystery about her, as though she belonged to the shadows rather than the glitz of this room. Andrew couldn't help but notice how the light played against the soft curve of her shoulders, how her gaze, though sharp, darted around the room with purpose.
"Who's that?" he asked, turning to his older brother, Richard, who was deep in conversation with a senator.
Richard followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, Sophia Russo. New to the scene, I believe. Italian family. I heard they're connected to the luxury trade, or something like that."
Andrew tilted his head, intrigued. "Or something like that?"
Richard shrugged. "Who knows? These people come and go. Anyway, stay focused tonight. There are people here you need to meet."
But Andrew's focus had already shifted. Something about Sophia's presence seemed almost deliberate, as if she had walked into the room with a purpose far greater than mingling.
Sophia Russo moved through the crowd with practiced elegance, offering polite smiles and nods, though her mind was far from the pleasantries of the evening. Every step, every glance, was calculated. Beneath the layers of crimson silk and jewels, she carried a secret, one that she knew could unravel everything if mishandled.
Her father's instructions rang in her ears: "Do what you must. But don't get caught."
Sophia's eyes scanned the room until they landed on her target-a portly man in his sixties, chatting animatedly with a group of donors near the bar. He was one of her father's informants, a man who had proven both useful and careless in equal measure. Her task tonight was simple: retrieve the sensitive information he had promised without drawing attention to herself.
As she approached, the man glanced up and gave her a knowing smile. "Sophia," he said, his tone warm but laced with unease. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Mr. Clarke," she replied, her accent soft but deliberate. "I wasn't sure I'd find you here tonight."
He gestured to the empty space beside him. "Always a pleasure to support a good cause."
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Have you brought what we discussed?"
Clarke's smile faltered for a moment before he reached into his pocket, producing a slim USB drive. "This is all of it. Tell your father I've done my part."
Sophia slipped the drive into her clutch with a practiced motion, her expression never wavering. "You've done well. Let's hope this is enough to keep him... satisfied."
Before Clarke could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them.
"Sophia, isn't it?" Andrew's voice was warm, curious, and just a touch disarming. He appeared at her side, holding two glasses of champagne.
Sophia's heart skipped, but her expression remained composed as she turned to face him. "Yes," she said smoothly, accepting the glass he offered. "And you must be Andrew Remington."
He smiled. "Caught me. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. You seem to have everyone captivated."
Sophia's lips curved into a smile, though her mind raced. She needed to divert his attention-quickly. "The attention is all yours tonight, isn't it? The host of such a magnificent event."
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