The morning after the grand gala, sunlight poured through the large windows of the Vescari mansion. Arielle stirred awake, the memory of last night still fresh in her mind. For a brief moment, she almost convinced herself that things could change between her and Kairo. The way he had stood up for her in front of everyone, defending her from the cutting whispers, had shaken her to the core.
But when she turned her head to look at him now, lying beside her in bed, reality struck again. Kairo was already awake, sitting on the edge of the mattress, buttoning up his crisp white shirt. His expression was unreadable, his posture stiff.
Arielle opened her mouth, ready to say something—maybe thank him for last night—but before she could speak, Kairo stood and slipped into his jacket.
“You should
