The ballroom thrummed with soft jazz and murmured speculation. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over velvet gowns and sharp tuxedos. Silver trays floated past, filled with champagne flutes and amuse-bouches no one really ate. But Ella barely noticed any of it.
She moved like she belonged—no, like she owned the place.
Nicholas was still by her side, his presence a shadow of power and protection, but Ella had asked him for a moment. Alone.
She needed to finish something.
Her heels tapped softly against the polished marble floor as she made her way through the arched hallway leading toward the back of the estate. The lights here were dimmer, quieter. The laughter and music faded behind her.
And then she saw him.
Matthew Alvarez.
Once her godbrother. Her childhood confidant. The boy who used to chase her through their family's orchards, who used to carry her books at school, who promised to always look out for her—until the day he didn't.
