Helen's POV
The gala hall glittered under grand chandeliers, every corner buzzing with whispered deals and laughter. I slipped through the crowd with Sloane, who paused every few steps to greet someone, her energy bright and effortless.
Derick stayed a step behind, silent and alert, his gaze sweeping the room. I felt it like a steady pressure at my back, sharpening my awareness of every glance that lingered too long.
Then I noticed him, tall, dark-haired, with an easy smile that drew attention like a magnet. He wore a perfectly tailored navy suit, the kind that whispered power and confidence. His gaze landed on me, lingering just a little too long, and I felt a flutter in my chest.
He strode straight toward us.
