The climax of their secret Affair came on the night of the corporate gala. The ballroom was a sea of sequins, tuxedos, and expensive perfume. Sylia was in her element, gliding through the crowd, networking with the city's elite.
Rhema wore a dress of midnight blue silk that left her back entirely bare. She felt Damien’s eyes on her from across the room the moment she entered.
"You look stunning, Rhema," Sylia said, beaming with pride. "Everyone is asking who the beautiful young woman on my arm is."
"Thanks, Mom," Rhema replied, her gaze drifting to Damien.
He was standing by the bar, a glass of scotch in his hand. He didn't smile. He didn't wave. He simply nodded toward the balcony.
The gala continued for hours—speeches, toasts, and laughter. Every time Sylia was pulled into a convers
