Chapter 2

The air in the studio still hummed with the residual energy of the day’s chaos, a low-frequency vibration that seemed to settle into the bones of anyone who lingered too long. It was late, the kind of evening where the city outside blurs into a smear of neon and rain, but inside, the world was reduced to the stark, sterile beauty of the event space. The main hall, where the guests had been dancing and drinking earlier, was now dimmed, the heavy velvet curtains drawn against the night. I had slipped away from the crowd, seeking a moment of quiet to adjust the silk of my dress, only to find him already there, waiting in the shadows of the prop room. He stood by a stack of unused backdrop stands, one hand resting casually against his chest, the other holding a glass of champagne he hadn’t taken a sip from in minutes. He had removed his jacket, leaving him in his crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone, exposing the hollow of his throat. When he saw me, his eyes didn’t just look; they devoured. It wasn’t the polite, professional gaze of the host or the casual interest