Elena's POV
"I need five minutes."
Damian's voice had gone tight, controlled in the particular way that told me he was holding something back purely through effort. He guided me toward a quiet corner near the terrace doors, away from the thinning crowd still murmuring over Victor's toast. "Stay here. I have to speak with a few of the board members. It won't take long."
"Damian…"
"Please." His hand brushed mine, brief and reassuring. "I'll find you the moment I'm done."
He disappeared through a side door before I could argue, and I stood there for a moment, champagne glass warm and untouched in my hand, watching the space where he'd vanished with a familiar, gnawing frustration. Two weeks of half-truths and interrupted conversations had worn my patience thinner than I liked to admit, a
