Lucas’s POV
The car idled quietly in front of the hotel, the engine’s low hum the only thing filling the space between us.
Gold lights spilled from the entrance like an invitation and a warning all at once. Valets moved with polished efficiency. Guests in expensive suits and glittering dresses laughed as if tonight was just another celebration, another excuse to drink and be seen.
Avela stared straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” she said finally, her voice low but tight.
I turned slightly in my seat, studying her profile. The tension in her jaw. The way her shoulders were drawn back like armor.
“It’s okay to think that,” I said calmly. “Just trust me.”
She scoffed under her breath. “That’s easy for you to say.”
I smiled faintly.
