The glare from the cameras hit Alessia before her toe even touched the red carpet. Flashes everywhere too bright, too fast, impossible to escape. She stopped, just for a heartbeat, heels clicking against the marble. Assistants were murmuring behind her, hushed and anxious.
“Breathe, Miss Moretti,” someone whispered.
She took the hint and pushed herself forward.
One step. Then another.
The crowd buzzed around her curiosity, gossip, and those camera lenses always hungry for more.
Right in the middle of it all stood Rafael.
He was tall, confident, impossible to ignore. He stood close. The world was watching, expecting them to look flawless tonight.
Smile. Look elegant. Hold onto power. Pretend to be in control.
This was exactly the kind of show that would spill into headlines and swir
