POV: Violet
The stars above the Harrison estate glittered like shards of broken glass scattered across velvet. From the balcony, the world felt deceptively calm, almost like a dream. The roses below swayed with the night wind, their fragrance carried upward to where Ryan’s hand anchored mine.
I should have been afraid. Afraid of what it meant to stand here, tethered to him, my heart laid bare. Afraid of Victoria’s men watching, waiting. Afraid of the way John’s face would look if he knew what I was allowing myself to feel again.
But all of that fear drowned beneath the steady, grounding weight of Ryan’s gaze.
He looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. Like he had chosen me in the face of ruin, blood, and war. Like he would keep choosing me, even if it killed
