The morning after Damian’s proposal, sunlight poured through the tall windows of his penthouse, gilding the marble floors in gold. The diamond ring still sat on Elena’s finger like a question she couldn’t answer. Its brilliance caught the light, but her chest felt heavy.
Damian moved around the room with effortless grace — the kind that belonged to someone used to control. He smiled when he noticed her gaze lingering on the ring.
“Still getting used to it?” he asked softly.
She nodded, forcing a small smile. “It feels unreal.”
He stepped closer, brushing a kiss over her forehead. “You’ll get used to it. Soon, everything will feel right — as it should.”
The words sounded comforting, but a flicker of unease passed through her. There was something possessive in the way he said as it shou
