Three months into the arrangement, Ava had learned to read Damian’s silences.
The way his jaw tightened when a rule was broken. The subtle flare of his nostrils when he was pleased. The way his hand would settle possessively on her lower back in public—claiming without words.
Tonight was her first true test in high society.
The Voss Enterprises annual charity gala—black-tie, held in the grand ballroom of the Metropolitan Museum. Celebrities, politicians, old money, new money. Everyone who mattered in New York would be there.
And she would be on his arm.
He’d dressed her himself that afternoon.
The gown was crimson silk—floor-length, off-the-shoulder, with a thigh-high slit that revealed a flash of leg with every step. Backless almost to the base of her spine. Elegant, but undeniably
