A BLURRY THEORY

The rest of the gala passed without further incident, though I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Now that I knew who Mackenzie was, her presence seemed to hover like a shadow. Even while mingling with investors and exchanging polite smiles, I occasionally felt the sharp edge of her gaze through the crowd—a cold, assessing look that sent a chill down my spine.

Mark, however, seemed more at ease—or at least better at hiding his discomfort. He played the part flawlessly, keeping his arm loosely around my waist or holding my hand with a practised ease that felt unsettlingly real. Still, the tension in his shoulders had eased just enough for me to believe he'd made peace with enduring the rest of the night.