Cal effortlessly navigated the sea of guests filtering into the lobby of the opulent hotel. For nearly an hour, he worked the room with practiced ease, greeting each arrival with a winning smile and a firm handshake, kissing cheeks and laughing on cue. Names, faces, and connections flashed through his mind in a whirlwind of social calculus, his network of contacts a vital asset in his line of work.

Yet, beneath the cordiality, Cal felt a simmering resentment bubbling just beneath the surface. These wealthy elites, born into lives of privilege and abundance, could never understand the tribulations he had faced on his journey to the top. While they lounged in luxury from the moment they left their mothers' wombs, he had clawed his way up from nothing, building his empire through sheet determination and grit. And now, surrounded by the trappings of their wealth, he found it increasingly difficult to relate to their shallow conversations and superficial concerns.

As he made small talk, his gaze surreptitiously scanned the room for potential companionship for the evening following the gala's end, his eyes flickering over the array of glamorous women in attendance. Though he had never left an event like this alone, he couldn't shake the feeling of ennui that settled over him. The endless parade of one-night stands had lost its allure, leaving him yearning for something a bit more substantial. He'd grown tired of humoring air-headed conversation, if it could even be called that. Truly, he'd love to pursue a woman romantically -- to proffer his heart and spoil her with everything she could ever dream of. What was life on the top, if it was spent alone? 

In his search of a woman of substance, one who could maybe one day appreciate the complexities of his dual existence, his double life, Cal's gaze fell upon a figure who stood out amidst the sea of superficiality. Clad in a golden dress that shimmered like molten sunlight, she seemed out of place amidst the vapid glamour of the event. Fair skin, piercing blue eyes, nearly elven features.

Just as Cal had set out to approach her, Marcus's voice broke through his reverie, tapping him on the shoulder. "Vanderbuilt's phone is secured downstairs, operation is underway." With a nod of acknowledgement, Cal thanked his friend and excused himself from the line of guests, his mind shifting gears. As Marcus ushered the guests into the banquet hall, Cal cast one last glance at the woman in the golden dress, a flicker of intrigue igniting within him. He would find her later, he promised himself. For now, duty called. With purposeful strides, he made his way from the lobby to the banquet hall, ready to get on with the next phase of the night.