Emma
The fireworks had faded, but the room still felt like it was sparking.
People kept dancing like midnight hadn’t just cracked the world open—laughing, shouting, moving under the pulsing lights as if the new year was something you could sweat into your skin. The terraces stayed wide open, cold air spilling in with every gust, mixing with heat and perfume and the thrum of bass that vibrated through my ribs.
Lucian didn’t let go of me.
Not in a way that felt like a cage—more like he’d made a claim he didn’t intend to apologize for. One hand stayed locked at my waist, fingers spread wide, firm enough that I could feel the pressure through the thin fabric of my dress, firm enough that anyone watching would understand exactly where I belonged. When the music hit harder, his grip tightene
