Late into the night, Ava dreamed...It was not the sort of dream that came in fragments, nor one that faded upon waking. No—this one unfolded with unsettling clarity, as though memory itself had decided to return, dressed in silk and candlelight.She was younger.Far younger.Barely more than a girl.The grand Vanderbilt estate shimmered around her, ablaze with golden light and music. That night—the night she had saved the formidable patriarch, Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt—had altered the course of everything that followed.And in reward, she had been invited to the ball.She remembered the first moment she saw him.Alexander.Standing beneath the chandeliers, tall and self-assured, yet with something unguarded lingering beneath his composure. Their eyes had met only briefly before he crossed the floor and asked for her hand.And then—They danced.From the very first note to the final fading chord of the evening.Not once did they tire.Not once did they falter.It was as though they had
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