The air crackled with tension as you sat at the edge of the grand dining room, as your heart pounded in your chest, a relentless reminder of the secret you shared with the man seated at the head. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the lavish table, set with pristine china and silverware that glinted like stars against velvet cloth. The chatter of your family and the Volkovs filled the room, but all you could focus on was Donovan.

“Adeline, darling, we need to finalize the guest list,” your mother chimed, her voice melodic but firm, drowning out the laughter of the adults around the table. “Of course, Mother,” your older sister replied, her smile radiant, oblivious to the tension thrumming in the air.

You glanced at Donovan Volkov, his blond hair perfectly styled, piercing gaze locked onto you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned back casually in his chair, but the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his awareness of your shared secret. In one week, he would be your sister’s husband, and yet here he was, with you, caught in a web of temptation.