Emily
I told myself I was going for the Pack. But really, I went because staying behind would’ve felt like defeat.
After the audit whispers and Julian’s carefully neutral concern, I needed to be seen. Needed to remind myself I wasn’t crumbling, no matter what the tabloids or staff thought.
Still, as the car pulled up to the charity gala, my palms itched. The kind of itch that came before a shift that never arrived. The kind that warned you something was coming, even if you didn’t know what.
Light from a hundred chandeliers glittered across polished marble, too bright. And gaudy as hell.
I tugged at the edge of my sleeve as I passed the front steps, offering a polite nod to the noble who greeted me at the top.
Tonight was another one of those formal affairs where the food was small,
