Sophia’s POV
The corner of his lips lifts, forming a sinful smirk.
Dark eyes pin me in place, dragging over me slowly, possessively. It sends a wave of heat crashing through me. And just like that, I’m reminded of last night in his penthouse.
This feels like a dream. He looks like a dream—black suit, black shirt—two buttons undone, exposing a silver chain, sleek dark hair, glowing eyes—like he’s happy to see me.
His scent travels to my nostrils from where he stands.
“Come here,” he says inaudibly.
I clench my fists and start moving down the stairs.
Halfway to him, he slips his hands into his pockets, backing away slowly, eyes still fastened on me.
Butterflies rise in my stomach.
My mom suddenly appears. I pause, gripping the rail.
He turns to her.
“My sincere apologies, Mrs. R
