When I finally stepped inside the spacious, luxurious restroom, I faced the mirror and forced my breathing to slow. I ran my hand over my face, trying to erase the heat burning in my cheeks.
“Are you okay?” a woman’s voice asked beside me, snapping me out of my spiral.
I turned quickly and found a young, elegant woman with a pleasant smile.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I answered, forcing casual. “Just… a little warm in here.”
She smiled in understanding as she retouched her lipstick in the mirror.
“I can imagine. You and Enrico Ferrara are the sensation of the night, you know? Everyone’s talking about you.”
I gave her a polite smile, hiding my discomfort.
“We’re happy. That’s all.”
She sighed dramatically, looking at me through the mirror.
“You know, it’s honestly admirable that you can keep so much composure with your history. It must be hard to forget what happened. A lot of women wouldn’t have the courage to try again.”
I swallowed, anger rising, but I kept my voice quiet and controlled.
“Some things are worth protecting. Worth rebuilding.”
Her smile sharpened into something with teeth. She leaned slightly closer, lowering her voice.
“It is. Just be careful. Men like Enrico Ferrara don’t change easily. You might end up disappointed again, sweetheart.”
That venom-soaked warning lit irritation through me. I lifted my chin and looked her straight in the eye.
“I think I’m perfectly capable of deciding who I trust. Thanks for the unsolicited advice.”
Her eyebrows rose. She stepped away with a mocking smile.
“Good luck, then.”
When she left, I inhaled deeply, even more unsettled than before. I washed my hands quickly, determined to go back into the ballroom and face all of it.
But the second I opened the door, I almost collided with Enrico.
He was standing in the empty corridor, waiting for me.
His gaze pinned me—intense, alert.
“What happened?” he asked immediately. “I saw that woman walk out with a smile I know too well to mean anything good.”
I exhaled, crossing my arms like armor.
“Nothing I didn’t expect. Just unsolicited advice about you and our past.”
His expression darkened. His jaw locked as he drew a careful breath.
“No one has any idea what happened between us. No one but you and me.”
I shook my head, looking away, trying to keep anger and old hurt from sharpening my voice.
“And do you, Enrico?”
He stepped closer—careful, measured—his voice low and filled with regret.
