Chapter 2

The air in the ballroom was thick, heavy with the scent of expensive perfume, blooming lilies, and the low, vibrating hum of three hundred guests trying to be heard over the string quartet. I stood near the edge of the dance floor, my heels aching in a way that felt almost appropriate for the occasion. I had spent the last hour smiling until my cheeks burned, accepting congratulations from people whose names I would forget by tomorrow, playing the part of the perfect, composed bride. But my eyes were not on my new husband. They were locked on *him*. He was standing by the grand piano, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, wearing that same impeccable suit that seemed to swallow the light. He wasn’t dancing. He wasn’t drinking. He was watching me. I could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, a warm hand sliding up the back of my thigh, resting just above the knee. It was maddening. It was electric. I caught his eye across the room. He didn’t look away. He didn’t smile, not yet. He just held that steady, predatory look that made my knees weak and my core clench