The city was loud with celebration.
It was the night of the charity gala, an event Damian had insisted Zaria attend. The ballroom glittered with chandeliers, gold accents, and the quiet hum of power. Men and women in sleek suits and shimmering gowns laughed, drank, and whispered deals behind painted smiles.
Zaria moved through it all with poise. Her gown was black silk, cut to perfection, her hair swept into a crown like twist. Every camera that flashed seemed to orbit her, every gaze lingered as if drawn by something they couldn’t name.
Damian was at her side, his hand resting lightly at the small of her back. His presence was commanding, his tailored suit a second skin, his eyes sharp even as he smiled for the crowd. Together, they were magnetic, an untouchable pair.
But beneath the
