(Third POV)
The room felt different now.
Not tense.
Not awkward.
Just… loaded — the way winter air feels right before fresh snow touches the ground.
Every gift had already been unwrapped, admired, weighed by meaning and value and subtle emotion. Boxes lay discarded like husks of former formality. Ribbon curled over marble floors. The faint scent of cocoa and pine clung to the air of Vince's villa like a quiet hymn to excess.
And at the center of it all stood Vince, hands on his hips, looking far too pleased with human emotion.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced grandly, "welcome to Phase Two: Emotional Exposure & Potential Embarrassment."
"And legal trauma," Jeff muttered from his seat.
"Correct. Now remember — no crying on the white couches. They're imported. And if anyone proposes, I want it notarised."
Steven didn't even blink.
Michelle almost smiled.
Almost.
--
Vince Clears His Throat Dramatically
