Isabelle’s POV

It wasn’t until I stepped out of the Vanleigh Grand that I realized I’d been holding my breath all night.

The cool night air hit my skin like a balm, sliding across my bare arms as the doorman handed me a small umbrella. The sky was overcast again, clouds heavy with the promise of another quiet rain. A part of me had hoped the weather would hold off—just long enough to make the evening feel less cinematic, less like the kind of night someone like Damion Blackwood would ...