Isabella’s POV
My jaw dropped.
Wait. She’s his mother?
Jace Salvador stood at the threshold of Display Room Two like sin in a tailored suit. His messy brown hair was tousled in that effortless I-just-woke-up-and-still-look-like-s*x way. His sleeves were rolled up, forearms veined, watch gleaming. He looked like the villain in a telenovela that everyone rooted for.
And worse—his eyes found mine immediately.
Oh! No.
Not the slow, lingering kind of glance.
It was recognition. Instant. Sharp. His mouth twitched.
Dear Lord, please don’t let him say anything.
Do not, under any divine circumstance, let this man open his gorgeous mouth and yell something like: “Hey, n****e-sucker!"
But no. He just stared. A glint of mischief lit his eyes like a spark in gasoline.
His mother, in full Kar
