The chandelier above the long dining table sparkled, its crystals catching the warm light and scattering it across the room. The restaurant was one of the most exclusive in London, known for its fine cuisine and discretion. 

The walls, adorned with abstract art, complemented the polished marble floors, and the tables were dressed with white linens, each place setting carefully arranged with silver cutlery and crystal glasses. Waiters moved with quiet efficiency, ensuring the guests’ needs were met before they could even ask.

Lucy Hardwick, wife of Tory MP and Minister of Migration, Conrad Fox, sat at one of the most prestigious tables. Her blonde hair was meticulously styled, framing her delicate features, and her emerald green dress hugged her figure, a statement of both elegance and status. Around her, the conversation flowed effortlessly, the chatter of politics, business deals, and the latest society gossip filling the air.

Lucy was the picture of contentment, her laughter blending seamlessly with that of her companions. Tonight was one of those rare moments when life felt perfect—uncomplicated and full of promise.

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