Alexander’s POV

I gripped my whiskey glass at the gala’s bar, ice clinking, my eyes darting to the hallway where Megan vanished.

Her red dress, tight on her curves, her chest heaving, had me wired all night. I told her she was mine, and I meant every word, but she’d been gone too long, and my gut screamed something was wrong.

The ballroom buzzed, chandeliers gleaming, rich folks laughing, their fake smiles grating my nerves. I slammed my glass down, shoving through the crowd, my tux ...