The Unwilling Spotlight

VANESSA

The moment Wesley and I entered the ballroom, I became acutely aware of how much I hated being the center of attention. Ironic, considering I'd designed every inch of this magnificent space—from the soaring ceilings with their crystal chandeliers to the intricate marble flooring beneath our feet.

"Everyone's staring," I whispered, keeping my smile fixed in place.

Wesley's hand tightened reassuringly at my waist. "Let them stare. You look incredible."

As we moved deeper into the crowd, I caught snippets of whispered conversations around us.

"Is that her? The Moonstone princess?"

"I heard she's been living as a rogue for years..."

"Alpha Roman nearly tore a boutique apart when he saw her..."

If they only knew they were gossiping about the very woman who had designed the venue they were currently admiring. I straightened my spine, drawing strength from that private knowledge.

"Would you like a drink?" Wesley asked, his eyes scanning the room with calculated precision.