Chapter 1 The night everything change

The laughter around her was a dull roar, a meaningless noise that buzzed in Antonella Rossi's ears as she sat rigidly at the head table. Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in golden light, glinting off champagne glasses and the sequins of designer gowns. Everything about the evening screamed perfection-perfect smiles, perfect lies.

She should have been happy. She should have been glowing with excitement, preparing for the moment she had dreamed of for years.

Instead, a knot of unease twisted in her stomach, pulling tighter with every second that ticked by.

Antonella smoothed a hand over the pale blue silk of her dress, the one Drake had once told her made her look like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. She forced a smile when guests leaned in to chat, nodding along even though she couldn't hear a word they said over the pounding of her heart.

Tonight was supposed to be it.

Five years. Five years of late nights waiting up for Drake to come home, of standing by him through failed ventures and whispered scandals. Five years of believing she mattered enough-believing they mattered enough-to survive anything.

Everyone expected it. The buzz had been growing for weeks. Antonella had caught the glances, the murmured congratulations, the sly smiles. Tonight was supposed to end with a ring on her finger and a new beginning in front of all the people who had always doubted her.

She lifted her champagne glass to her lips, taking a sip she didn't taste, her eyes scanning the room for him. Drake was standing near the stage, his head bent as he spoke to Amira.

Antonella's chest tightened painfully.

Amira.

The golden girl. Always at the center of every room, every conversation. Dressed tonight in a shimmering gold gown that clung to her curves and caught the light like she was the sun itself.

Antonella swallowed hard, willing herself not to spiral. Drake and Amira had grown up together, their families intertwined for years. It wasn't strange for them to be close.

Was it?

As if sensing her gaze, Drake glanced up and smiled at her-brief, almost absent. Then he turned back to Amira, laughing at something she said.

Antonella looked away, her cheeks burning.

Stop it, she scolded herself. You're being paranoid. Tonight is the night. He loves you.

She clutched that thought like a lifeline, even as doubt gnawed at the edges.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd.

The emcee's voice boomed through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, if we could have your attention please!"

All eyes turned to the stage. Antonella's heart leapt into her throat as Drake stepped up, microphone in hand.

"This won't take long," he said, flashing that practiced, easy grin that had charmed her once upon a time. "I just couldn't let this night end without doing something... special."

A ripple of excitement ran through the room. Antonella's breath caught.

Here it is, she thought, pressing a trembling hand to her chest.

Drake turned slightly-and dropped to one knee.

The room erupted in gasps and applause. Cameras flashed. Champagne sloshed in glasses as guests surged closer, eager to witness the moment.

Antonella rose slightly from her seat, her heart in her mouth-until she realized he wasn't looking at her.

He was looking at Amira.

And Amira, glowing with triumph, was looking right back.

"Amira," Drake said, his voice warm, earnest. "From the moment I met you, I knew you were meant to be in my life. You are the light in every dark place, the laughter in every quiet room. Will you marry me?"

Antonella couldn't breathe.

Couldn't move.

Couldn't think.

The applause grew deafening as Amira clapped a hand over her mouth in mock surprise, tears glistening in her eyes. She nodded, squealed out a yes, and flung herself into Drake's arms as he slid a massive diamond ring onto her finger.

Antonella sat frozen, her body numb, her mind shattering into a thousand jagged pieces.

She heard the cheers, the clinking of glasses. She saw her father beaming with pride, her stepmother dabbing at her eyes. She even caught the pitying glance from one of the family friends across the room-a glance that said, Poor Antonella. Left behind again.

The walls of the ballroom seemed to close in around her.

She rose on shaking legs, barely aware of what she was doing. She stumbled toward the nearest exit, ignoring the calls behind her, ignoring the way people turned to stare.

The night air hit her like a slap, cool and sharp against her overheated skin. She sucked in a broken breath and kept walking, her heels clattering against the marble steps, then onto the cobbled street.

Her chest heaved as she tore away from the gala, away from the lies, away from the pain threatening to drag her under.

How could he?

How could they?

Had the past five years meant nothing? Had she been nothing more than a placeholder until something-someone-better came along?

Tears blurred her vision. She didn't care where she was going. She just needed to move. Needed to breathe.

A wrong turn took her down a side street, the buzz of the city dulling into a quieter, darker hum. She leaned against a brick wall, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was deep, rough around the edges, and somehow... gentle.

Antonella jerked her head up.

He stood a few feet away-tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket that somehow made him look even more dangerous under the dim streetlights. His face was cast in shadow, but she could make out piercing eyes, intense and sharp even from a distance.

She should have been wary. She should have turned and run.

But Antonella was so tired of running.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm not okay."

For a long moment, they just stared at each other. The world around them faded-the distant blare of car horns, the laughter spilling from nearby bars, the cold that seeped into her bones. None of it mattered.

He took a step closer, hands raised as if approaching a wounded animal.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked quietly.

Antonella shook her head, a sob catching in her throat.

Something in his expression softened. He stepped closer still, until he was just an arm's length away. Close enough that she could smell him-clean, like rain and leather.

Without thinking, without hesitating, Antonella closed the distance between them. She reached for him-desperate, reckless, aching to forget.

His arms came around her instantly, strong and sure. She buried her face against his chest, and for the first time that night, she let herself cry.

Not silent tears, not the quiet weeping she'd mastered over the years.

Real, raw, gut-wrenching sobs that wracked her body and left her gasping for air.

He held her through it, saying nothing, asking nothing.

When the worst of it passed, Antonella tilted her head back to look at him. His hand came up to brush a tear from her cheek, his touch surprisingly tender.

"You don't have to tell me," he said. "Whatever it is, you don't have to explain."

A fresh wave of emotion surged in her chest.

She rose onto her toes and kissed him.

It wasn't soft or sweet. It was desperate, frantic, a plea she didn't know how to voice.

He froze for a moment-startled. Then he kissed her back, matching her urgency, his hands framing her face like she was something fragile, something precious.

The world fell away. There was only heat, and skin, and the shudder of a breath caught between two mouths that had never met before but somehow fit perfectly.

Antonella didn't think. She didn't question. She didn't worry about tomorrow.

Tonight, she would let herself be reckless.

Tonight, she would let herself forget.

And when the sun rose, she promised herself, she would walk away and never look back.