The night had been crafted to impress.

The ballroom at the Meridian Grand was awash in golden light, the chandeliers glinting like halos above the rich and powerful. Laughter floated across the air like perfume. The Kavinsky Foundation's annual charity gala was in full swing, and Lily stood in the center of it all, a picture of perfection in a pale satin gown that clung to her curves, her makeup flawless, her hair swept into soft, elegant waves.

A porcelain doll. Just like Kella said.

But she wasn’t feeling perfect. Not tonight.

Her smile was frozen, her hands trembling lightly around her champagne flute. Leo hadn't spoken more than three...