Seraphina stepped back into the world on her own terms.
The invitation was discreet—an international charity gala hosted by the Verne Foundation, neutral territory frequented by politicians, financiers, and cultural elites. Attendance was optional. Visibility was not.
Lucien read the message twice before looking up at her. “You’re sure?”
She was fastening the clasp of a deep sapphire gown, her movements calm, deliberate. “If I hide now, they’ll decide when I’m allowed to exist again.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
She met his gaze in the mirror. “Then tell me what you are.”
Lucien hesitated. Power had never unsettled him. Exposure had never frightened him. But the idea of Seraphina standing alone in a room filled with sharpened smiles and concealed agendas twisted something un
