Thinking of the maid who was tied to a stone and fell into the sea, Serra's back chilled.

She pretended to be calm and took the invitation card, "If he must invite me to be his female companion, I will not refuse again." ”

"Your pleasure."

After the servant finished speaking, he bypassed her and left.

As the others disappeared around the corner, Serra clenched the invitation card and frowned.

She must not let him know that there is a humanoid creature in the world called vampires, and according to the structure of the novel's world, all humans who know everything will be sentenced to death, which is the same as the rules that the wolf clan abides by.

Evasion is not the way to go, and the Duke will probably use more extreme means to verify what he wants to know.

She had to attend the ball, and she had to dispel his doubts.

But this guy has the ability to read minds, and everyone's dirty thoughts at the prom are under his nose, how can she control her brain and not think nonsense?

Serra let out a long sigh, this was simply not possible.

...

Twilight falls.

Serra, who appeared in the first-class banquet hall with an invitation card in hand, was bright and flamboyant, with a simple black dress with big puff sleeves and a little jewelry, which was destined to bury her beautiful and outstanding facial features.

Many super-rich businessmen cast fresh eyes on her.

For those of them who were wealthy but lacked a title of nobility, it was a good idea to marry a noble wife to make a class leap.

Serra politely declined some of the men who had invited her to dance, and without finding the Duke in the glittering crowds, she looked around and withdrew her gaze, picked up a glass of champagne and sat down in a long soft chair alone.

After an afternoon of ideological work, she thought she should be able to cope with this crisis.

The first track is a polka, a lively and jumping rhythm and a girly floral skirt to see Serra dazzled.

She inherited the death ending of Serra in the book, inherited her unique slutty beauty and femme fatale, but did not inherit her past and muscle memory.

How do you jump this thing? She's going to definitely fall like shit.

"Miss Serra, huh?"

A dark-haired man in a black tuxedo walked up to her, a young and handsome face smiling, "We met at the party, and you were in a hurry. ”

Serra didn't remember the man at all, "Hello. ”

"Those friends of mine have no ill intentions, the second track is a waltz, I can—" Before he could finish his subtle invitation, a middle-aged woman dressed like a big beige cake stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

"Alright, Roger, it's time for you to go to bed, don't bother..."

She glanced at Serra a little and said, "Don't disturb Miss Serra. ”

Sierra really wanted to take the initiative to add one for her to get in without money.

Ladies who have no money and no pampering, dogs ignore them, and the chain of contempt for contemporary aristocratic women.

"It's only 8 o'clock, Mom." The young man in the tuxedo was dissatisfied, "I'll dance again." ”

"I'm waiting for people here, not dancing." Serra smiled appropriately.

"Who invited Miss Sierra into first class?" The woman who thought she was noble held her son's arm and looked unhappy.

Just as the noble man walked in at the door, the sparse greeting made Serra look for prestige, and her eyes curled, "Duke Rosehill." ”

The two people in front of her brushed their heads together.

The young duke, who was the richest man except the king, walked up to her.

He was dressed in an expensive formal black suit, his short light blonde hair was neatly combed back with wax, and his dark pupils cut through the crowd to stare at the smiling girl.

There are countless filthy voices of silent people in my ears.

The moment he made eye contact with her, Rose Hill raised an eyebrow slightly.

The mind-reading technique suddenly failed, and the voice of the mind belonging to Sierra was quiet and nothing.

"Miss Serra, wait."

His voice was nice, but there was no warmth in his tone.

"Just the right time, invite me to dance?" She offered to reach out to him.

The second track she would.

Large, leather black gloves led her to the center of the dance floor.

The lady in the cake dress and her son, who were hanging aside, looked at each other with embarrassment.

The waltz was the only social dance that Serra had ever been exposed to.

After doing enough psychological construction, she calmly put her hand on Roshill's shoulder, "You invited me to dinner and dance twice or three times, and fell in love with me at first sight?" ”

"I can't talk about it." He danced gracefully and skillfully, and his gorgeous and natural movements were not inferior to any of the men present.

"That's a pity." With a disappointed expression, Sierra deliberately stepped on two wrong beats, hooked his shoes on tiptoe, leaned forward and fell into his arms.

The hand that was on her back quickly tightened to help her keep her balance, and the two bodies were pressed close together, one cold and one hot.

"I've liked you for a long time." Serra lifted her face, a warm breath on his pale, cold jaw.

In order to be consistent with what she seems, she is making a crazy confession to him in her mind.

Like you, like you, like you, like you...

All the dirty voices were muffled by the sound of the confession that was close at hand and turned on the loudspeaker.

Mind reading was inexplicably restored at this moment.

Rosshill lowered his head expressionlessly, his eyes were so dark and so rich that he couldn't see the slightest refraction of the light, and he couldn't reflect Serra's face.

Hearing her fanatical confession, the emotions that belong to humanity are not visible at all on this deep face.

"The woman who just spoke to you thinks you're spying on his son." His tone was still flat, and he was able to keep up with the beat as he held her up.

"How do you know? Have you been listening to me for a long time? Her brain is still continuing to output to him I like you, and her bright and delicate little face has a layer of pale pink of a girl's spring.

It is estimated that everyone present at this moment noticed that she Serra was openly seducing, this cold duke who did not seem to eat the fireworks of the world.

Rosshill didn't say a word, his dark eyes half-hidden from his eyelashes staring at her.

There was no hiding from any lie, and Sierra couldn't make a mistake.

The waltz began to end slowly, and he was indifferent, and she placed her hand on his arm on one of his broad shoulders, "I'm not interested in him, and although we met for the first time, I liked you when I first saw your picture in the newspaper." ”

Serra tilted her head almost to the tip of his nose, her creamy brown eyes not dodging in the slightest, "I don't know why you killed that maid, but I like you, so I'm willing to accept and keep all your secrets." ”

Taking the initiative to confess her loyalty and portray herself as a fierce woman with an infatuation is the only strategy she can think of.

"The lies are not complete enough." The corners of Rosehill's lips turned up to one side, and he smiled sneeringly.

"I was just afraid that you would kill people, so I refused your first invitation."