Chapter 8: The Gala’s AftermathThe Maybach hummed smoothly through the Manhattan streets, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows like scattered diamonds. I sat on one side of the backseat, my emerald gown pooled around me like spilled ink, while Khalid sat on the other, the space between us feeling like an ocean. The silence was heavier than it had been on the way to the gala. Back then, there had still been a fragile thread of hope. Now, even that thread felt frayed.I stared out at Central Park, the trees dark silhouettes against the glowing skyline. My heart still raced from the confrontation with Natasha, her words echoing relentlessly in my mind: *He needs a real partner. Not just a pretty wife.*Khalid finally broke the silence, his voice low and tired. “Evelyn… talk to me. What happened in there?”I turned to look at him. In the dim interior light, he looked every bit the powerful man the world admired — sharp jawline, tailored tuxedo, the faint shadow of stubble alo
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