THE COMMOTION
JAX’S POV
The time shows 18:58 as my ride parked outside the mansion-like palace, we’re lined up with the others.
I peak outside the tinted windows while trying to smoothen the crease of my black trousers, then unconsciously took my hanky as the sweat trickling down from my forehead, feeling the uneasiness with the cloth label on my nape.
[Ugh! Wearing a tuxedo in a formal event is not my fave.]
The doors sprung open and a deep hoarse voice announced, “Sir, Welcome to Mansion de Royal!"
“Thank you, Logan!” he bows down then stood up and waited patiently.
I’m watchful with my movement as I disembark from the silver Mercedes to avoid more creases on my tux.
I surveyed the parking space, it’s at the center of a huge lawn, beautifully landscaped with a variety of flowers, the huge open area is jam-packed with men and women in their best suits and gowns, chatting, gracefully walking towards the two gorgeous grand staircases.