"I'm sorry. You deserved a heads up."
Maya's fingers froze on her phone. She slowly looked up to see Levi Quinn standing in front of her. In the middle of this room full of industry people, this man had walked over here to say sorry to her personally.
The apology caught her off guard. Her eyes met his — the young omega standing before her, golden hair catching the soft glow of the venue lights, looking every bit the rising star but carrying himself with an unexpected humility.
Around them, a few people from nearby tables had noticed. An artist apologising to his team in public, without being asked — that was not something you saw every day. She caught someone leaning slightly toward them.
This was the same Levi who had ignored her forty-seven calls earlier that evening? The one who'd vanished, leaving her to juggle the schedule and keep the event from derailing?
She had been drafting his funeral since the third unanswered call.
"Forty-seven times."
"I know."
