The penthouse shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, a stage set for perfection. Guests moved with wine glasses in hand, their laughter floating like bubbles. Waiters wove silently through the crowd, offering hors d’oeuvres on silver trays.
It was the kind of evening Damien Steele excelled at calculated charm, seamless hosting, the picture of a man who had it all. Vanessa sparkled at his side, the immaculate wife. And Sierra… Sierra felt like a shadow in her emerald dress, every breath a struggle.
She shouldn’t have been there, not in this setting, not after the stolen touches and whispers in the dark. Her chest tightened each time Damien’s gaze strayed to her across the room. Quick, fleeting glances that set her skin aflame and reminded her of the truth they could never speak
