Lucien sat across from me like a storm contained in a tux. The head table looked perfect on the surface-black linens, white roses, crystal glasses-but every breath felt like it tugged at a wire strung too tight. Even the band seemed uneasy. Their soft music faltered, notes thinning and drifting apart.

Not once had Lucien stopped looking at me, but no charming small talk nor smooth CEO mask. Those golden eyes fixed on mine like I was the only person here.

Say something, I wanted to scream. ...