The Amalfi Coast glittered under a sky soaked in stars, but even the heavens seemed dim beside Villa Sterling.
Light spilled from every corner of the estate—golden, excessive, deliberate. White orchids cascaded from lemon trees like silk, champagne fountains shimmered under crystal chandeliers, and laughter—soft, controlled, powerful—floated through the air.
This wasn't a party.
This was a statement.
Power lived here tonight.
And somehow…
So did I.
"You're shaking," Reid said, stepping onto the balcony.
He looked devastating in a midnight-blue tuxedo, his white shirt crisp against his tanned skin. He looked like the king of this world, but when he looked at me, his gaze was intense and raw. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw before sliding down to the emeralds at my throat.
"I'm not shaking," I lied.
But my fingers tightened around the glass anyway, the condensation slipping against my skin.
"I'm just… adjusting."
