Florina moved through the crowd like a vision, her white dress catching the strobe lights as she danced toward her new husband. Salam’s voice soared, raspy and powerful, singing of a love so intense it felt like a fever. "Foc, foc, foc!" he shouted, and the crowd erupted, throwing napkins into the air as the violins wailed in a frantic, joyful spiral.
The air in the ballroom was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and roasted meats, but the real electricity came from the stage. Florin Salam stood at the center, the undisputed king of the night, adjusting the microphone as the first chords of began to pulse through the speakers.
It was Auras and Florina’s wedding—a night where every detail, from the gold-trimmed chairs to the towering cake, screamed "spectacular." But when the rhythm dropped, the luxury of the room faded into the background. All eyes were on the bride.