"Hello, June."
Lucas Kane's voice was still absolutely f*****g terrifying.
He flips on the living room lamp, and suddenly he's there in full, horrible detail. Still handsome in that polished, expensive way that used to make my stomach flutter. Still impeccably dressed even at midnight, his charcoal suit perfectly tailored, his dark hair styled just so.
"You look surprised to see me," he says, like we're meeting for lunch instead of him breaking into my apartment. "I brought coffee."
He holds up a paper bag from the twenty-four-hour diner down the street.
"How did you get in here?" My voice comes out calm, which is a miracle because my hands are shaking so hard I have to clasp them behind my back.
"You invited me." His smile is the same one that used to charm judges and juries, the o
