"Is there a problem?" Natasha asked with a smile.

"Madam, please hear me out," Aspen said seriously. "Andrew isn't worthy of being your dance partner. In fact, he's not even worthy of being your servant."

Natasha shook her head and replied, "Ms. Stevens, this is my business. Now, if you'll excuse me, we can chat more after the gala."

After that, she walked straight toward Andrew, leaving Aspen stunned.

The other guests had also noticed Natasha's movement, and whispers began to circulate through the crowd.

"What's so special about this guy that Madam Vostokoff would ask him to dance?" someone muttered.

"She even turned down Finley. Could she actually be interested in him?" another wondered aloud.

"That's no ordinary guy—that's Andrew Lloyd, and rumor has it that he doesn't even bow down to Finley or Atlas!" someone explained.

The crowd buzzed with gossip, especially the men who watched jealousy as Natasha smiled at Andrew like a lovesick teenager.

Finley squeezed Yvo