He could sense it in the way her hand didn’t reach for his, in the way her eyes didn’t meet his, in the way her silence spoke louder than any scream.
And for the first time, Damien realized: all the applause in the world meant nothing if he lost her.
The strangers’ stares haunted Lena long after they returned home. Even in the quiet of Damien’s loft, she felt exposed, as if invisible eyes still followed her every move.
And Damien, basking in the fading glow of admiration, couldn’t shake the new shadow creeping into his chest, Lena’s distance.
He knew it. He felt it.
And he feared it.
Because Damien Cross, who thought he owned the world with a paintbrush, was beginning to understand that he might be losing the only canvas that ever truly mattered.
The car ride was silent. Lena had as
