Chasing the Flame

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KIMBERLY

In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence,one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot.

POV

I felt so odd and out of place at the party; everyone around me seemed to exude wealth and sophistication. It was as if this setting—the opulent décor, the refined manners, and the air of exclusivity—was a world far removed from mine. I was surrounded by people whose every gesture and word seemed steeped in privilege. Isabelle, on the other hand, was the embodiment of grace. When I saw her, I was practically speechless. She was nothing short of mesmerizing—her raven-black hair and flawless skin gave her an almost regal presence. She looked like she'd stepped out of a fairy tale, a vision of beauty that seemed both ethereal and intimidating.

"You're ravishing, Kimmy. The dress suits you perfectly," Isabelle said, her smile radiating warmth and genuine admiration.

"Are you kidding? You look absolutely stunning," I responded, trying to match her enthusiasm. I meant every word; she was the star of the evening, commanding attention with effortless elegance.

Ethan made his entrance from behind me, and his proximity had an undeniable effect on me. I could feel the air crackling with tension as he approached. His presence was magnetic, and the way he moved through the room seemed to draw all eyes, including mine.

Isabelle's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he came closer. "You're the 'Isabelle Williams,' right?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face that seemed both charming and enigmatic.

She blushed slightly, caught off guard by his attention. It was fascinating to see how his mere presence could fluster even someone as composed as Isabelle. He had an effect on everyone around him, his charisma seemingly boundless.

"Thanks for honoring my invitation, Mr. Salvaire," Isabelle said, bowing her head with respect.

Ethan's gaze shifted toward me, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. The intensity of his stare felt like a spotlight, and I struggled to maintain my composure under the scrutiny. It was unsettling and exhilarating all at once.

"Why is he looking at me like that?" I wondered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I'll leave you both to chat," Isabelle said softly, moving away to mingle with her guests. Her departure left me alone with Ethan, and the atmosphere seemed to close in around us.

The party continued to buzz with energy, but Ethan's presence beside me made everything else fade into the background. It was as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of us.

"Would you like to dance?" Ethan asked, his smile warm and inviting. His gaze was unwavering, making it impossible for me to refuse.

"Dance? I shouldn't be dancing with you—" I started, trying to hold onto my sense of propriety.

"Come on, Kimberly. Just one dance. It won't hurt, I promise," he insisted, his smile so disarming that I felt my resistance crumble.

As we moved to the dance floor, I felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. The crowd around us seemed to blur into insignificance as he drew me into his embrace. The contact was electric, a thrilling connection that sent shivers down my spine. Ethan's touch was both gentle and assertive, and our movements were perfectly in sync with the music.

The lyrics of the song wrapped around us, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere. Everything felt calm and serene, and his eyes met mine with a tenderness that made me forget everything else.

When the music ended, Ethan paused, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're not a bad dancer."

I blushed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Why do you act so naive?"