DAMIEN'S POV
The auction was spectacular. Elara moved through the crowd like she owned the world, confident and radiant in a black dress that made my breath catch. I stayed back, watching her work.
"You're staring," James said, appearing beside me with champagne.
"I'm observing."
"You're staring like a lovesick puppy."
He wasn't wrong. Watching her succeed at something she'd built entirely on her own did something to me. Pride, attraction, something deeper I wasn't ready to name.
The auction raised four hundred thousand for the hospital. Patricia Holbrook publicly praised Elara's work. By the time the last guest left, Elara looked exhausted and triumphant.
"You did it," I said, finding her in the empty gallery.
"We did it. Everyone did it."
"No. You did this. Own it."
She smiled,
