Once His Wallflower, Now His Biggest Mistake
"But it's my engagement gala. She could have left the administrative logs to Dmitry for just one hour."
"Forget the logs for tonight, my love," Maureen O'Hara chimed in, leaning over the edge of the VIP table. She raised a glittering crystal flute of vintage Dom Pérignon, her emerald rings catching the light. "The machinery of high society waits for no one, not even our busy little chairperson. Look at this room! Yamelyan, darling, the acoustics in this hall are simply divine. Truly magnificent."
"You are too kind, Maureen," I murmured, inclining my head with the perfect, deferential grace of a man who had spent a decade curating an untouchable front. "I wanted nothing less than perfection f
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