The moment Freya’s eyes locked with Orion’s, the world around her blurred into insignificance. He stood near the bar, his usual impeccable composure softened—no, undone—by the flush of alcohol staining his sharp cheekbones. His gaze, dark and unrelenting, pinned her in place as if she were prey caught in the glow of a predator’s stare. Her pulse roared in her ears, loud enough that she feared the entire hall might hear it.
"Is he staring at Freya?"
Rhea’s voice cut through the haze, her narrowed eyes darting between Freya and the man who held her captive with nothing more than a look.
“Freya,” Joan whispered, leaning in so close her breath tickled Freya’s ear, “the CEO is staring at you.”
Freya’s throat tightened. She forced a laugh, brittle and unconvincing. “Huh? He is?”
“He
