As I stepped into Felix's room, the familiar scent of his cologne hit me like a wave, stirring up memories I'd long tried to bury. His eyes raked over me, a predatory gleam that made my skin crawl.
"Natalia," he purred, his voice dripping with false warmth. "You're even more beautiful than I remember."
I steeled myself, refusing to let him see how much his presence affected me. "Let's cut to the chase, Felix. Where's my diary?"
He chuckled, reaching for a bottle of wine. "So impatient. Come, have a drink with me. For old times' sake."
"I'm not here to reminisce," I snapped, but my eyes were drawn to the leather-bound book on the nightstand. My diary. So close, yet so far.
Felix followed my gaze, a smirk playing at his lips. "One glass," he said, holding out a crystal flute
