Scarlet
The last notes of the song were fading when a deep voice cut through the air.
"May I have this dance?"
I turned, my heart still steadying from the warmth of Ronan’s presence, only to find Declan standing there.
His dark eyes were calm, steady—so different from Damien’s storm or Ronan’s unreadable depths. He looked every inch the gentleman, his tuxedo sharp, his posture composed.
I hesitated.
Declan had never looked at me like this before, like he was asking for something more than just a dance. Like he was asking for time—time he should have given me years ago.
Ronan stiffened beside me, his fingers tightening around my waist, a silent, possessive hold. He didn’t say a word, but the tension in the air thickened.
Declan, for all his usual ease, looked nervous. He didn’t even
