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Chapter 5

last update Last Updated: 2025-02-06 21:28:06

Once Ama stepped into the hall, her breath caught in her throat. She was completely captivated by the grandeur of the room. Never before had she encountered such opulence, and she was certain she didn't belong here.

The hall radiated elegance, with high ceilings draped in pristine white fabric and crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over polished marble floors. Tables dressed in crisp white linens, adorned with golden candleholders and velvet chairs, demanded attention. A stage at the far end awaited the orchestra. The air hummed with conversation and music, while fresh flowers contributed a luxurious touch, creating a sophisticated and vibrant atmosphere.

Staff in sharply tailored black and white outfits glided through the crowd, offering food and glasses of various wines. Some circulated among the guests, while others stood aside, ready to assist. Ama realized she was lingering at the entrance when one server shot her a questioning glance. Straightening her shoulders, she moved boldly deeper into the room, determined to blend in seamlessly.

She picked up a champagne flute from a nearby server, a woman who greeted her with grace. Ama scanned the room for the purpose of her attendance, but when she didn’t find it, she resolved to wait for it to reveal itself later.

The soft murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the gentle classical strains from the orchestra enveloped her, setting the tone for an extraordinary evening.

Approaching the art display, Ama took her time, matching the effort of those around her as she studied each piece for a few minutes. Although art wasn’t her forte, she maintained an air of intrigue.

“It’s a captivating piece, isn’t it?” a deep voice beside her remarked.

Ama turned, ready to contribute something insightful, but her mind momentarily blanked. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never been an art enthusiast,” she replied, tilting her head to examine the painting.

The man chuckled softly, which snapped her focus back to him. “That explains the puzzled expression you’ve worn while studying the other paintings,” he observed, an unexpected boldness in his gaze.

The man looked like he was in his late 20's or early 30’s, he commanded attention with a quiet, undeniable confidence. His dark hair was effortlessly tousled, and his tailored suit was a flawless fit—elegant, sharp, and expensive. A gold watch gleamed subtly beneath his cuff, and his polished shoes struck the marble floor with purpose.

Ama was fully aware that she stood before one of the city's elites.

His eyes were intense, he looked like he was used to always being in control. There was no mistaking his maturity, built through decisive moves and relentless ambition. He wasn’t just part of the world; he shaped it.

“You were watching me?” she asked, disbelief mingled with curiosity.

“It’s hard not to; you’re quite compelling,” he said, his eyes roaming over her with clear interest.

Ama smiled, choosing to focus on the painting again. “Feel free to admire me from a distance, then,” she said, maintaining her playful banter while keeping her gaze fixed ahead.

“That would be a pity. I’ve always thought beautiful things deserve close examination,” he retorted, a charming smile playing on his lips.

Realizing he was flirting with her—something she found appealing—Ama decided to match him wit for wit. “The painting certainly has its allure; I can see why you might want a closer look at it,” she shot back, allowing a small smirk to escape.

His laughter echoed in the air, and she felt a surge of confidence as she noticed she could make him laugh.

“You're quite amusing, Miss…?” he prompted, clearly eager to know her name.

“Thank you. I’ve heard that often,” she replied coyly, yet she wasn’t ready to give him her identity just yet. 

They both fell silent, engrossed in the painting for a moment longer until he broke the stillness. “Would you be my date for the gala?” he asked, his gaze still lingering on the artwork.

Was he serious? Asking her to be his date when they had only just met? Ama turned slightly, poised to decline, but before she could speak, a young girl barged into their space, redirecting her attention.

“Sebastian, I’ve been searching for you everywhere! How could you just disappear like that? And why isn’t Gray here yet? I’m going mad over here! How could you do this to me?” the girl exclaimed.

Sebastian Blackwood. Ama felt a rush of disbelief—she had been conversing with none other than Sebastian Blackwood. The girl must be important to him, possibly a sibling or close friend, perhaps too young to be a partner.

“Calm down, Emma. You’re overreacting,” Sebastian responded, attempting to ease her distress.

“Overreacting? No, Seb, this is the perfect reaction when your father turns your first art exhibition into his own publicity stunt!” Emma retorted, her voice rising.

Ama felt unwittingly caught in the middle of their dynamic. She cleared her throat to reassert her presence, ensuring they acknowledged her.

Emma turned to her, surprise flashing across her face. “I’m sorry; we were in the middle of a conversation. I can tell you about the piece later,” she said and pivoted back to her brother, ready to continue.

“I was having a conversation with her before you interrupted, Emma,” Sebastian said, his frustration evident at his sister's lack of manners.

Emma quickly redirected her attention to Ama, embarrassment softening her expression. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize! I’m really sorry for sounding like a brat just now,” she said, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. 

“By the way, I’m Emma Blackwood,” she said, extending her hand.

Ama took control of the moment, “I'm Ama West.”

“Wow, we have similar names; that's exciting!” Emma exclaimed, enthusiasm lighting up her expression.

“Emma, I need a moment with the young Miss,” Sebastian stated firmly, his gaze directed at Ama. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

Emma glanced between her brother and Ama, processing the situation. 

“Fine, I’ll see if I can reach Gray. I just can’t comprehend how he could choose to abandon me like this,” Emma replied, her frustration evident.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at Ama. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ama. I hope to see you around more,” she said, her voice trailing off as she continued to voice her grievances about her brothers.

“I just met my baby sister,” Sebastian remarked, drawing Ama’s attention back to him.

“She certainly has a vibrant personality,” Ama replied, a confident smile gracing her lips.

“She really does,” he agreed, returning her smile with genuine appreciation.

“Now, about the response you were about to give me before the interruption,” Sebastian prompted, his expression curious.

Initially, Ama had intended to reject his offer, but now that she was aware of his identity as Sebastian Blackwood, her perspective had shifted. 

“Yes, I’d love to be your date,” she declared, her smile confident.

Sebastian’s face lit up with pleasure at her affirmation. He extended his hand, which she took without hesitation, and together they strode toward the VIP table in the room.

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