The applause followed Amara out of the ballroom like a wave that didn’t know where to break.

She moved through it untouched.

Not buoyed. Not shaken. Simply… finished.

The doors closed behind her with a muted thud, sealing off the warmth, the lights, the carefully curated admiration. The hallway beyond was quiet, carpeted, dimly lit — the kind of space designed to let powerful people exit without being seen when things went wrong.

Her heels echoed softly as she walked.

Only then did her hands begin to tremble.

Not from fear.

From restraint.

Jenna caught up to her first, breathless. “Amara— that was—”

“Later,” Amara said gently. “Please.”

Jenna nodded,...