Amber returned to the ballroom, her head still reeling from the heated exchange in the conference room. Her body still buzzed with the electric tension of the moment she’d shared with Ryan, but now, as she made her way through the crowd, everything felt
different. His hand rested possessively on her waist, guiding her through the maze of guests. It wasn’t affectionate or comforting, just a firm reminder that she was there beside him, but not truly with him. They moved among the people, exchanging pleasantries and mingling, but it felt as though Ryan was miles away, both physically and emotionally. His mind wasn’t on her, it never was.
Amber’s thoughts circled back to what had transpired in the conference room. “Amber, sweetheart, don’t start games you know you can’t win.” His words echoed in her mind, each syllable colder than the last. She had hoped for more between them, had allowed herself to believe that there could be something real, something beyond the cold contract that bound
