The gala shimmered like a living constellation. Chandeliers spilled golden light across marble floors, violins hummed from the far corner, and diamonds glittered on the necks of women who had never known the weight of worry. Tracy had thought she was prepared for this—after all, it wasn’t her first event with Alex—but the sheer extravagance of the room left her breathless.
At her side, Alex was composed perfection, the cut of his suit razor sharp, his expression unreadable as ever. His hand rested lightly at the small of her back, guiding her through the throng of New York’s elite as though she were an extension of his will.
Whispers followed them. She felt them brush against her skin like cold drafts. Alex Knight has a fiancée? Who is she? She doesn’t look like one of us.
Tracy lifted
