ended a party like this-a masquerade hosted by the mysterious Dominic Santoro, a man whispered about in both elite and cr
en in sharp suits and women in glittering gowns moved gracefully beneath chandeliers dripping with
ning, she locked eyes with a man in a sleek black mask. His presence was magnetic, hi
she stammered, he
replied, his deep voice se
r waist. The world blurred as they moved in perfect rhythm. Elena felt
ath the cover of moonlight and secrecy, the
h regret and confusion. The man was gone, leaving no trac