“To a night we’ll never forget,” Sandra’s voice echoed from the small stage, followed by applause and cheers from the guests.

Evelyn smiled from the corner of the room, wearing a simple black gown adorned with diamond accents on the collar—one of her exclusive designs. The success of the Lumière gallery opening still rang in her ears. It was supposed to be a night of triumph. But one person’s arrival changed everything.

“Evelyn.”

A voice—familiar, but one that made the hair on her neck stand.

She turned and saw Julian standing a few meters away. His face was pale, his hair disheveled, and a faint scent of alcohol clung to...