Emma POV

The hall was drowning in gold light. Music hummed low, soft, rich. The air smelled of champagne, perfume, and something sweet I couldn’t name.

Ethan’s hand brushed mine as we stepped through the glass doors. Cameras flashed. Faces turned. People stopped talking.

Their eyes followed us like we were something made to be stared at.

I forced a smile. My heart didn’t listen.

Ethan looked perfect — calm, tall, his black suit cut clean against his shoulders. His eyes didn’t ...