The ballroom doors swung wide, and the orchestra’s melody faltered as if the strings themselves recognized the new arrival.

Damian Cross stepped inside.

Tall, black suit perfectly cut, he moved with the unhurried confidence of a man who owned more than half the skyline. Conversations dimmed; the crowd parted like a tide around a rock. A ripple of camera flashes followed him.

Aria didn’t turn right away. She let the pause stretch until the whispers reached her ear

That’s him.

Finally.

No wonder she came alone…

Only then did she pivot, her expression a serene mask.

Damian’s gaze swept the room before settling on her. A subtle arch of an...