LATER THAT NIGHT — THE AFTERPARTYThe rooftop sparkled like a dream—fairy lights hung between the stars, halos above champagne flutes, soft jazz wafting around soft laughter. The air was thick with perfume, cigar smoke, and happiness, but Valeria Jayne hovered at the edge of it all, her shoulders to the crowd, her heart to one man.Kc Page stood beside her, his warm hand beside hers, their fingers intertwined like lifelines. They did not touch the drinks on the table. The only drunkenness was this—a gnawing sense of peace, this silent gravity that hung between them."Tonight was not necessary," Valeria whispered, her voice low, delicate in the stillness of the moment.He glanced at her, the slight arch of the brow. "Miss the glow of your resurrection? Never."A gentle smile crawled from her lips, but it was tinged with incredulity. "You actually think that's what the night was about?"Kc's eyes were on hers—quiet, sure, amazed. "You didn't walk that catwalk, Valeria. You consumed it.
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