HER POV
The night air was warm, salted with the breath of the sea. I stepped out of the car and the world tilted—the dock stretched out before me, string lights swaying lazily above, casting golden reflections across the black ripple of the water. Music pulsed low, seductive, slipping between the laughter and the clink of glasses.
The invitation had said exclusive, but I hadn’t expected this: yachts rocking gently at their moorings, each one glowing like its own private world; men and women in clothes too expensive to wrinkle, too sheer to hide anything. Perfume mingled with salt air. A hundred eyes turned, curious, appraising.
I pulled my silk shawl tighter, though it was useless against the way my dress clung—midnight blue, cut daringly low at the back, my skin still humming from days
