The ballroom of The Grand Meridian was a whirlwind of gold and crystal, the chandeliers casting shimmering reflections across the marble floor. Ava stood beside Liam at the head table, her fingers wrapped tightly around the stem of her champagne flute. The room buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, the air thick with the scent of roses and expensive perfume. It was perfect. It was suffocating.
Liam’s hand found the small of her back, his touch a brand through the thin fabric of her dress. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
Ava didn’t look at him. “I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
She finally turned, meeting his gaze. His gray eyes were dark, unreadable, the faint smirk on his lips sending a jolt through her. “I don’t need you to tell me how I feel.”
Liam’s fingers tightene
