Elena had seen something shift in Damian the moment she stepped into the study.
His face, usually so calm—so steady—had turned pale, almost like he’d seen a ghost. His eyes darted to the drawer he’d just closed, and even though he tried to hide it, she could feel it. The tension. The heaviness.
Something was wrong.
He wasn’t the same man who had lifted her hand in front of the crowd earlier and placed the diamond crown on her head. He wasn’t the same man who whispered in her ear that she was his queen, the love of his life.
Now, he looked haunted.
“Damian…” she said softly, her fingers resting on his bare arm. “What’s going on?”
His eyes met hers—just for a moment—and she saw it.
Fear.
Not the kind you run from.
The kind you bury.
But Elena had always been able to read between th
