Elena was speaking with several Italian investors when Damian—dressed in a black suit and silver tie—slowly approached. His breathing was heavy. His eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from the woman he once ignored, now standing tall as a symbol of triumph beneath the shimmering lights.

“Elena…” Damian’s voice rang clear, even over the soft background music.

Elena turned her head slowly. That sharp, penetrating gaze was back—making Damian feel as though he were standing trial in a courtroom.

“I know this isn’t the right time. But if I keep waiting, I may never get another chance.”

The guests began glancing over. Some of Elena’s colleagues quietly stepped aside, sensing the...