Secretly Mine

In front of me, Swan casually handed over her invitation, waiting for the attendant to scan her invitation. But just as the attendant flashed her invitation under the light, the symbol turned black.

Before I even had a chance to react, all of the surrounding guards swarmed around Swan, pinning her to the ground.

"Wait! There must be some kind of mistake? I've been on the list for years!" she yelled, pleading on the ground.

"What's happening here?" a voice that sounded a bit too excited sounded behind me. I didn't even need to turn around to know that it was my good 'friend' from earlier.

"Sir! Her invitation is incorrect. It seems like it's an old version!" the attendant quickly replied, showing him the invitation.

"Hmm? This is interesting. We haven't had a break in attempts in years. It's a good thing leader Karl told me to oversee tonight's event personally."

Karl? He really has a strong sixth sense.

But the situation in front of me was shocking.

How did Swan end up with my invitation?

I glanced down at the invitation in my hands. It was identical to the one that Zach had forged for me.

She must have accidentally swapped the invitations when she handed my items back to me after the security check.

"No! I swear! I was invited! I always attend these special auctions!" Swan continued to cry.

"Hmm? Is that so? If you always attend, then you should know the number one rule: Never refer to it as 'special'!"

The leader of the guards let out a small chuckle, then waved his hand. "Take her away. We'll figure this out one way or another!"

The other guards quickly lifted Swan off the floor and carried her into one of the side rooms. I wasn't sure what they were going to do with her, but I was glad that it wasn't me.

Just as I thought everything was over, the leader of the guards walked over to me. Before I could react, he snatched the invitation out of my hands and passed it over to the attendant.

"Scan this one. He's here with her. I suspect they're both trying to get in with old invitations."

After handing my invitation over, he walked back over to stand as close to me as possible. We both watched as the attendant placed the invitation underneath the special light.

Immediately, the gold symbol turned into a shade of green.

"It's real, sir," the attendant announced, nodding to the guard beside me.

"Hmm, is it now? Very well," he said, handing my invitation back to me. "Please enjoy your evening."

I snatched my invitation out of his hands and walked forward. The only thing I wanted now was to get out of his view.

After walking by the last group of security guards, I made my way through a set of double doors and into a large hall. This was one of the side halls in the building, and it was decorated with the most luxurious and rare items available.

The paintings on the wall were all antique pieces from the best painters of centuries ago. Velvet tapestries and drapes hung around the windows, giving the hall a very regal atmosphere.

Instead of conventional electric lighting, thousands of candles lit up the hall.

I should have gone with Dracula. This place feels like a vampire lord's castle.

No matter how beautiful and mysterious this place felt, the reason for it all was disgusting. I found it difficult to even enjoy the wonderful orchestra that was playing classical music because I knew the real reason all of these people were here tonight.

As I observed my surroundings, I noticed that everyone was gravitating to the refreshments table. In fact, I seemed to be the only one who wasn't holding a flute of champagne in my hands.

To avoid standing out, I made my way over to the refreshments table and stood in line for a glass of champagne.

"Oh, this stuff is so divine! I must get myself another glass!" a masked woman beside me exclaimed after downing the entire glass in one go.

I lifted my eyebrow and looked around. It seemed like everyone was obsessively coming back for this particular drink.

Is it really that good?

While I've appreciated the taste of a good whisky and wine, I've never felt that a single glass of alcohol could have such a mesmerizing effect.

This drink was so popular that there were over ten attendants manning this section of the refreshment table alone.

In front of me, another woman leaned over the table dramatically, "You must tell me the secret recipe! Every time I come here, this drink is the only thing I can think about for days after!"

The other around her nodded and craned their necks, hoping to learn the secret recipe.

The attendant shook her head politely, "Forgive me, Madame, but I am not allowed to share the recipe. In fact, none of us here knows it. It's made beforehand and we just pour it into flutes."

"That's a shame," the woman sighed before accepting another glass. "I'll just have to indulge as much as I can tonight then!"

I walked forward after the others cleared the area. In front of me, an attendant was meticulously pouring a bubbly liquid from a dark bottle. At first glance, nothing about it seemed that special.

She threw in a single raspberry before politely handing the glass over to me. "Please enjoy!"

"Thank you!" I said, accepting the drink.

Before trying it, I walked to a less populated corner of the hall. Once I was out of view, I lifted the glass up to my nose, trying to see if I could smell anything special about it.

No, just smells like any regular cheap champagne.

If anything, it even felt a little flat, as most of the bubbles had already escaped.

I was tempted to try it, but after being drugged by Morgan, as well as being present in a dangerous place, I wasn't willing to risk anything happening to me.

I'll just pretend to be in love with it to fit in.

But just as I lowered the glass flute, I noticed something with the raspberry. There was something inside. It was so small and partially dissolved that if I had looked a few minutes later, I wouldn't have been able to find it.

A very fine white powder sat inside the pit of the raspberry.

Could this be the culprit?

I turned my back to the wall and fished out the raspberry, doing my best to prevent the powder from getting wet, before slipping it into my pocket.