The Byrd estate buzzed with activity. Florists carried armfuls of white roses through the halls, caterers discussed menus in hushed tones, and Patrick Byrd’s voice carried from the study, sharp and commanding as he directed staff.
Kya stood at the top of the staircase, arms folded, watching the chaos unfold below. Her stomach twisted. This wasn’t what she wanted. She had asked for something small, private—family and close friends only. But her father had other plans.
“An engagement of this magnitude cannot be hidden,” Patrick declared, striding into the foyer. “You are marrying Julian Gray, heir to the Whitmore legacy. The city will expect a celebration worthy of the name.”
Kya’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care what the city expects. I care about what I want.”
Patrick’s eyes narrowed, but
