Author’s Note: This chapter includes mentions of childhood trauma and abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

The ballroom still buzzed after the bathroom scene. Alessia was gone, but everyone knew something had gone down. Whispers followed us all the way back to our table.

I couldn’t take the stares. Couldn’t take Brayden’s iron grip on my waist either. So, I grabbed a champagne flute off a tray. One sip, two sips, sweet bubbles rushing to my head.

By the time I downed the ...