CHAPTER 13
The hall shimmered with light and laughter. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen stars above a sea of glittering gowns and tailored tuxedos. The charity gala was a spectacle of wealth and pretense—every conversation lined with false smiles and hidden motives.
Selene stood by the edge of the ballroom, her champagne remaining untouched. She had worn the black satin gown Damien’s assistant insisted on—sleek, backless and elegant. But no dress could shield her from the eyes watching, whispering, judging.
She could feel him before she saw him.
Damien Lancaster entered the room with quiet authority, his black suit sharp, his presence colder than the air conditioning. Conversations paused, eyes darted to their side. His reputation always arrived before he did.
Selene looked away a
