Chapter 32

• Damien left the garden with a heavy heart, the weight of the evening settling onto his shoulders like an unwelcome cloak. His heart raced as he replayed the scene with Charlotte in his mind—the way her eyes widened in fear, the frantic energy radiating from her as the guards had dragged her off. It didn’t matter who orchestrated that despicable act; all he could think about was how close he had come to losing her again.
• As he made his way back to the gala, Damien could feel the party’s extravagance bleeding into dullness. Laughter echoed faintly, the clinking of glasses and murmurs of compliments failing to resonate with him. He felt drained, emotions strung tight like a bow, yet the night was far from over. He needed to gather his thoughts, to strip away the remnants of an evening that had begun as a glimmer of potential but had descended into chaos.
• He ascended the stairs to his office, each step amplifying the exhaustion that settled deeper into his bones. The grand expanse of the party faded behind him, and he opened the mahogany door to the amber glow of his sanctuary. The plush rug underfoot felt familiar as the silence enveloped him.