When the doors opened, I stepped out without a word. Davin, undeterred, followed closely behind.
“Have the meeting rescheduled,” I ordered as I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it onto the couch.
“I already did,” he replied.
I nodded once in acknowledgment, then slapped his back in a brief, appreciative gesture before making my way toward the bar.
Pouring myself a generous glass of brandy, I let the burn of the liquor settle in my chest.
But even as the warmth spread through me, the restlessness refused to fade.
Because no matter how much I tried to focus on work, on business, on anything else—
My mind kept going back to her.
Seeing Amara tonight made one thing painfully clear—I had been lying to myself all these years, convincing myself that I had moved on. That I didn’t care any
