Chapter 43: Cracks Behind the Glamour
Lincoln Center that night seemed to become the center of the world's gravity. Thousands of eyes, both those physically present and those watching through their screens, were fixed on one point: Julian Caldwell and the woman holding his arm. Beneath the flood of spotlights so bright they forced her pupils to shrink, Scarlett felt as if she were walking on water. Everything felt magical, fluid, yet at the same time incredibly fragile.
"Breathe, Scarlett," Julian whispered right by her ear, his voice drowned in the roar of cheering fans and the rapid clicks of camera shutters that sounded like machine gun fire.
