Julian’s POV
The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza was a gilded cage of the city’s elite, filled with the scent of lilies and the sharp, underlying hum of corporate greed. I stood on the mezzanine, my hand gripped tight around a glass of scotch. I didn't care about the charity, and I certainly didn't care about the accolades. My focus was entirely on the woman standing at the center of the room, currently surrounded by a swarm of tech investors and board members who looked at her as if she were the second coming of the digital age, Katia.
She was wearing a gown of midnight blue that fit her like a second skin, the fabric catching the light with every breath she took. She looked untouchable and professional, and yet, looking at her, all I could feel was the ghost of her weight against my desk a
