Elena's POV
"You look like you're about to be sick."
Mia adjusted the clasp at the back of my dress, her reflection grinning at me in the mirror, entirely unaware of everything that had happened in the two weeks since that night I'd sat up until dawn waiting for a text that never came and an elevator that eventually had. Damian had returned just after sunrise, exhausted, unharmed, and unwilling to explain more than the words *it's handled* … the same two words he'd used every single time since.
"I'm fine," I said, smoothing the front of the gown for the third time in as many minutes.
"You're not, but you look incredible, so I'll allow the lying." Mia stepped back, surveying her work with obvious satisfaction. "Deep breaths. It's one night. Smile, shake some hands, and let your very han
