Zavian’s POV

The night in Swissville was colder than I expected.

The wedding had drained me out completely, the noise, the lights, the endless congratulations. Everyone seemed drunk on champagne and happiness.

I, however, felt strangely empty.

After the last toast, I returned to my suite at the Royale Hilton. It was at the topmost floor, overlooking the glowing city below. The silence inside was soothing. I loosened my tie, unbuttoned the top of my shirt, and poured myself a glass of whiskey.

The taste burned my throat, warm and familiar. I wanted it to drown the thoughts of Velvet's soft voice, trembling, filled with jealousy.

I could still hear...