A/N: Khr does not belong to me. If it did, there'd be a lot more Vongola Primo.

A large and spacious ballroom. Delicate glass chandeliers hung in the surrounding rooms and hallways, a significantly sized central one in the ballroom. Women clothed in vibrant array of colors danced across the floors in the arms of their husbands, fiancés, or men they had just met. Men dressed in their best, hoping not to anger said wife or fiancée. Laughter and small talk mingled in the air, mixed with the soothing and gentle music from the orchestra situated on the raised floor, the short few steps leading up to it littered with numerous flower arrangements.

Elegant tables wrapped in smooth silk were situated in-front of the large floor to ceiling windows, the dark and heavy velvet curtains pulled back to let the pale moonlight lay across the floors, adding natural light to the festive atmosphere. Fragile crystal glasses and the best china available sat on top of them, perfectly arranged to appeal to the eye.

Some walked beneath the moon in the warm summer night amongst the gardens. Some stood gazing out at the lake that inhabited the grounds from the balcony. The moon was reflected off the water brilliantly, as if it too was prepared for this night like everything else.

The fragrance of the prepared food also enticed the guests, offering something a bit more substantial than dancing. An interesting array of foods prepared throughout that exact morning and afternoon by the cooks of the household, illustrious chefs standing by, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings. Wines and other refreshments were situated on a side table, waiting to be taken.

A few children ran in and out of the crowd of dancers, laughing happily, regardless of the half-hearted scoldings of their mothers. It was a night to be in high spirits, a celebration.

The wine helped bring the mood up.

It was a party.

A party thrown by a rather wealthy businessman.

He was invited, of-course.

She was there, a young lady he didn't recognize. Blonde hair—a lighter shade than his own—pulled up by a simple green ribbon. The hair cascading down her back was curled. A simple white mask hid her identity. Her dress was simple as well, yet elegant and it became her. It swept against the floor, its color the same as her eyes, a sky blue. A full skirt with a darker blue underskirt, off-the-shoulders, but decent. Her dress was rather simple compared to the other women's' rather extravagant attire. Lace at the hem and puffed sleeves, as was the style. Tighter sleeves that covered her arms and extending halfway up the back of her hand underneath. A black choker necklace with a blue stone was around her neck.

He had watched as many approached her, asking to dance. He didn't see why they wouldn't; no mask could hide her exquisite beauty. She gave them a polite smile, shaking her head lightly, most likely making up some excuse as to why not. So, they would turn to one of her friends, asking them. The one asked would gladly take him up on the offer, gliding away, her hand in his, a bright and cheery smile on their lips, chatting idly as they went.

Until all her friends had been asked and she was left alone at the table.

It was a party.

A masquerade thrown by a close friend of her father's.

She was invited, of-course.

He was there, a young man she didn't recognize. Blonde hair—a darker shade than her own—that was rather messy, but seemed to suit him, oddly enough. The upper part of his face was hidden by the deep amber mask, but his eyes were a sharp orange tone, that she could tell. He wore a black suit with white pinstripes, a white dress shirt and black tie. A cape was pulled across his shoulders by a golden chain of some sort. A business leader, she presumed. Otherwise he wouldn't be here.

She knew he had been watching her; he hadn't tried to be subtle about it after-all. Watched as many had asked her to dance. Those who asked only sought after her beauty. She despised those kinds of people. They didn't see the person within, the will within as her mother and sister would say.

She wasn't in the mood to put up with them, so, being the lady her mother raised, she politely declined, casually mentioning one of the many friends that had attended as well. The other girls had been more than happy to accept their offers, moving away with a flurry of skirts and high pitched giggles echoing from the others as they glided away.

He was with other young men she didn't recognize. Friends of his. Other business leaders and partners she assumed. But she supposed she wouldn't have known everybody there. He still watched her as she was finally left to herself. She looked away from his watching eyes and out at the many dancers from where she was seated at one of the tables. She knew several of them, some waving at her as they passed. She gave a smile and a nod before they disappeared in the crowd once again. Gazing from the corner of her eye, she noticed the blonde man was no longer with his friends, yet his friends stared openly at her.

Uncomfortable, she looked to where her father stood, talking amongst the older men, his close friends and acquaintances. He caught sight of her and raised his glass to her, smiling. The others turned to see who he was toasting and smiled as well, raising their own glasses to her. She blushed, looking back at the dancers.

"Mia Donna. You are alone." She looked up and over, startled, to see the blonde standing before her, a smile on his lips. His voice was soft, quiet, but she heard power there, a strong will. She blinked before averting her eyes.

"Si." His offered his hand to her.

"Shall we dance then?" She looked up slowly, his smile still there. She looked over to where her father stood. He was watching them carefully, his brows furrowed. She gave a slight smile to him before looking back at the blonde. She laid her hand in his and rose from her seat. He grasped her hand gently.

"It would be my pleasure, thank you." He gave a slight bow of his head, leading her out onto the floor.

It was a party.

A party he seriously wished his daughter hadn't attended.

She was beautiful, that he knew. She would be pursued, that he also knew.

He never said he would admit it though.

The minute he had walked through the door he had spotted them, all the young men attending. He had turned to ask if she was sure she wished to be here, but she looked so happy he just couldn't ruin her night. He saw the blonde earlier, wondering if he too would ask her to dance.

He just never expected his daughter to say yes.

Yes, her mother raised her to be a lady and he was very proud of her when she said no to every man who asked her to dance.

It just had to be that man.

He had seen the others he was with. Some looked alright, but the one… Anyway, he wanted to know who he was.

None of his friends knew, so he became curious. They too wondered about the young man who had his daughter agree to dance with him. That was a first, as far as they knew. She had never danced with someone before.

It was a party.

One they had been a little reluctant to attend, but agreed.

Now they were glad they did.

It was nice when they saw their friend dance with a lady. They wondered about her. Maybe he knew her?

They would be surprised if that was the case. He would have said something. She was pretty, they would agree to that. Beyond that, they knew nothing. Not even her name.

They had seen her by herself and wondered if maybe their friend would ask her to dance. He felt that all ladies should be out on the floor and having a good time, not on the sidelines watching on.

They had seen the other men ask her as well and had a little bet going on how long he himself would wait to ask her. The kid had won.

They were rather curious, to say the least about this beautiful, mysterious young lady that had caught his attention.

It was a party.

A party she talked her father into letting her baby sister come to.

Her name was Isabella. She was beautiful, but none pursued her. She may have looked like a lady and she may have acted like a lady, but she refused to admit she was one.

Deep brown hair hung loose about her, unlike her sister who held her own fair hair back. It had been Isabella's idea to curl it. Sky blue eyes like her sisters, but a somewhat darker complexion. Italian. Her sister was paler, like their mother. Isabella's dress was a deep crimson, the same style as her sister's dress, but with a white underskirt and black laces travelling up the back of the dress.

Isabella watched calmly with a smile on her features as she watched the two blondes. The man looked comfortable and rather in his element. Her sister on the other-hand looked nervous, regardless of the careful expression on her face. Many would mistake her look for experience for these kinds of events and possibly even some slight boredom, as if it was all so tedious. Not many knew her like Isabella did.

She was the older sister after-all. She had to know and understand her cute little sister if she was to protect her efficiently. Her cute little sister had always been pestered so relentlessly, much like Isabella had been, years prior. Sadly, her little sister wasn't blunt like Isabella. Though, that was one of her good points and the reason why she would be married to someone more bearable. Isabella knew she would be happy.

And if she wasn't, her husband would have hell to pay. Isabella would make sure of that.

Isabella walked slowly to where her father stood, smiling at the men around him. They quickly gave a bow, offering polite greetings to her. She waved them off and they gave a sigh of relief. "Papa, may I speak with you?"

"Yes of-course Darling. Gentlemen, please excuse me."He excused himself, moving away from the group, his elder daughter's arm through his. "Now, dear, what is it?" He asked casually. Isabella smiled, shifting her gaze around her calmly.

"Papa, I've been thinking…"

"Yes?"

"About my sister. I think it would be good if she attended more of these events." Her father glanced over at her. "She'll gain more confidence in herself. She'll find someone who likes that confidence, her spirit if you will." She gazed at the many couples in the room, her heart aching slightly. She still had some time before she could find someone like that. Many disliked all the confidence she had…

"I think you might be right, my Bella." Isabella moved a bit closer to him. "She is growing up rather fast…"

"She's already dancing with someone, did you know Papa?" Her father stiffened.

"Yes." Isabella hid a smile, watching her sister glide across the floor, the young man leading her flawlessly.

"I do believe I saw a spark between the two of them, Papa." Her father stiffened even further, his brow furrowing deeply as he eyed the man. Isabella pretended not to notice, but decided not to irritate him further.

The first part of this is coming along rather swimmingly. I have an interesting idea for this, so, we'll see how it plays out, yea?