The camera flashes are merciless, a blinding white storm that sears my retinas and turns the world into stuttering stills. Every click captures Marcus’s arm around my waist, my frozen smile, Nicolai’s rigid silhouette just behind me. The headlines are already writing themselves: Hudson-Greystone Heirs Engaged—Power Couple of the Century? Two mega-fortunes about to fuse, The press seems to be eating it up, shouting questions faster than I can blink.
“Aria! Smile for the engagement shot!”
“Will the wedding be this year?”
My chest tightens. I’m drowning in noise and light, but what really guts me is Nicolai. His grey eyes—usually so steady—are wide with raw, unguarded hurt. Betrayal. The man who claimed me in the shower this morning like I was oxygen now looks at me like I’ve stabbed him i
