The charity gala had been a rehearsal for public life; this event felt like the real thing. It was an industry launch—glass, lacquer, and people who measured worth in introductions. I went because Lina insisted and because I wanted to see how the men behaved when the world was watching. I wanted to see whether the promises they’d made in private held up under lights.
The venue was a converted warehouse with high ceilings and a soundscape that made conversation feel intimate even in a crowd. Rian arrived like a man who belonged on a magazine cover—tailored, composed, the kind of presence that made people lean in. Mateo came in paint-stained jeans and a shirt that looked like it had been wrestled into place; his energy was a live wire. Evan slipped in quietly, carrying a small notebook and
