Chapter 1049
She found him in the far corner of the ballroom, half-hidden in the shadows of a massive floral arrangement. He was holding a glass of red wine, but he wasn’t drinking. He was staring directly at her.
The flawless, warm smile from that morning was gone. His face was pale, drawn, and etched with a profound, crushing sorrow—a look that had no place in this perfect simulation. It was the look of a man watching a ship sink, knowing he couldn’t save the passengers.
This wasn’t the radiant man from the garden. This Julian wore the familiar sorrow she knew so well, and in that instant her heart stuttered with recognition.
This was him. This was the man she knew.
Skye’s heart leaped into her throat. She took a step toward the shadows, desperate to reach him, to ask him how to get out.
But Liam’s hand tightened around her waist.
“The first dance belongs to the birthday girl and her fiancé,” Liam smiled, pulling her gently but firmly toward the center of the dance floor.
The string quartet began to play a sweeping, romantic waltz.
Skye was trapped. She placed her hand on Liam’s shoulder and let him guide her into the turns.
With every spin, the tight shoes bit deeper into her flesh. She could feel a blister tearing open on her heel, raw skin grinding against stiff leather. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead. The pain was excruciating, but she welcomed every sharp pulse of it. It kept her eyes open. It kept them fixed on the shadows, waiting for Julian to make his move.
The waltz felt like an eternity. When the final note faded, the crowd erupted into polite applause.
Liam smiled down at her, his eyes shining. He leaned in, clearly intending to kiss her.
Skye turned her head slightly, letting his lips brush her cheek instead. “My feet are killing me,” she said smoothly, stepping back. “I need to sit down for a moment.”
“Of course,” Liam said, his concern immediate and cloying. “I’ll get you some water.”
The moment he turned toward the bar, Skye bolted. She ignored the searing pain in her heels and pushed through the crowd, heading straight for the shadowy corner where she had spotted Julian.
But when she reached the floral arrangement, the corner was empty.
A half-full glass of red wine sat abandoned on a small cocktail table.
“Looking for someone?”
Skye spun around.
It wasn’t Julian. It was Liam. He had returned faster than expected, holding two crystal glasses of water—but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking past her, toward the center of the room.
The crowd was parting. A team of servants was rolling a massive black Steinway grand piano onto the middle of the dance floor.
Liam handed her a glass of water. His movements were suddenly stiff, jerky.
“I have a surprise,” Liam said. His voice sounded wrong. The rich, adoring tone was gone, replaced by a hollow, strained echo.
He walked to the piano and sat down on the leather bench. He adjusted the microphone stand.