The city shimmered in gold and shadow beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Damian’s penthouse. Lena stood barefoot in the kitchen, her fingers wrapped around a warm mug of tea she hadn’t touched. The heat of it seeped into her skin, but did nothing to ease the cold creeping into her chest.
Since the press conference, something between them had shifted—subtly, almost imperceptibly. But she could feel it. Damian had stood beside her in front of the cameras, his hand on her waist, his eyes scanning the crowd with cold command. He had silenced his enemies with calm, deadly precision. Declared to the world that she was his wife, his partner.
But not once had he looked at her the way she craved. Not like she was his.
He had protected her. Shielded her. Played the part. But the part that mat
