Nikolai POV
The engagement ring looked right on her hand.
That was the first problem.
I noticed it while the applause was still moving through the room, polite and expensive, rising beneath the glow of chandeliers and candlelight. Men lifted champagne glasses. Women smiled behind diamonds. Cameras flashed discreetly from approved corners.
Two empires applauded the beginning of a contract dressed as a celebration.
Valentina Moretti stood beside me in ivory silk with my ring on her finger.
My ring.
The thought arrived with such clean possession that I almost rejected it on principle. It was not the thought itself that unsettled me. It was what it implied.
Almost.
Her hand was still in mine. Smaller than mine, warm, steady. The diamond I had slid onto her finger caught the light ea
