#luxes.event02

the ball was drawing to an end, the evening considered a splendid success. the carroways seemed content that their image of manhattan’s untouchable family remains secure. that is, however, until a booming cry is heard from the top floor. stylist eden moreau is the one to stumble across the horrific scene: a deceased simon caldwell. 

details of his death remain under wraps, though the severe trauma around his neck suggests strangulation. it seemed that he had been up there while most of the party carried on, which leaves everyone in attendance considered a subject. how could two men from the same family end up dead?

the city’s social scene is struggling to comprehend what’s happened at one of their most sacred events, and reporters are clamoring to get any information from any & all of the attendees. given the high profile nature of the crime, discretion is advised. 

the event has now come to an end and a troubling new death is taking its toll on the city. nobody knows who is behind it or why, and given their nature, everyone is wondering if they’re next. 

         OPHELIA PLAYED WITH THE LITTLE CUPID ON HER CLUTCH AS SHE LINGERED NEAR THE BAR, having finished making rounds to greet guests as was always expected when her family hosted events such as this one. much like everyone else in her circle it was second nature to her. drowning in silk, tulles, and embellishments surrounded by opulence wearing well practiced smiles and trying to network. that she especially struggled with when younger. “you know other than the supposed anonymity, these masks have another benefit. at least mine does, of obstructing my vision just a bit. which might not be such a bad thing.” she said with light laugh.