She belongs in this world—her diamond earrings, her sleek dress, her perfect posture.
She looks like someone Damien should be with.
Someone who fits.
And I?
I am not that.
I sip my champagne, staring at the golden liquid, willing myself not to care.
“You ran away.”
I stiffen.
I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him.
A second later, Damien steps beside me.
I keep my gaze on my drink. “I thought you were busy being charitable.”
I don’t mean for it to come out snippy, but it does.
Damien chuckles lowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, printsessa.”
I roll my eyes, taking another sip. “I don’t even know who she is.”
“She’s an old…acquaintance.”
I glance at him, raising a brow. “Acquaintance?”
Damien smirks, but it’s not amused. “We used to be involved,” he says, watching my reaction.
I keep my face carefully blank. “How involved?”
His eyes darken slightly. “She wanted to marry me.”
I nearly choke on my champagne. “Oh.”
He watches me for another beat before adding, “I didn’t.”
That makes something in my stomach unclench.
Not that it should matter.
I clear my throat, focusing on absolutely nothing.
“She’s more your type,” I say after a pause. “Beautiful, rich, well-connected. Looks great in a ball gown.”
Damien turns slightly, angling his body closer to mine.
His voice is low when he speaks. “You look better.”
I blink up at him, my breath catching for just a second.
Damien’s gaze lingers on me, dark and unreadable, and I feel like my skin is burning under his attention.
But before either of us can say anything else, a new voice cuts through the noise of the gala. “Damien.”
