The Gray family charity reception glowed with old‑money elegance—crystal chandeliers, champagne towers, and a string quartet playing something soft and expensive. Kya stepped into the ballroom beside Julian, her midnight‑blue gown catching the light like a quiet declaration.
She didn’t shrink.
She didn’t hesitate.
She belonged here—and she knew it.
Julian leaned in, voice low. “You look incredible.”
Kya smiled. “I know.”
He laughed under his breath. “There she is.”
Across the room, Sofia Gray—fresh off a flight from Switzerland—was greeting donors with her usual warmth. She looked tired but radiant, her presence commanding the room. When she spotted Kya, her face lit up.
“Kya, sweetheart,” Sofia said, pulling her into a hug. “You look stunning. That dress is perfect.”
Kya returned
