Lisa’s POV
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Little Lisa."
The voice hit me even harder as I turned. Familiar. Smug. Drenched in that same self-importance I remembered all too well.
Bryan Moreno.
He stood there, hands in his pockets like he belonged, like everyone in the room owed him attention. The smirk on his face made my stomach knot up.
Memories of a life long suppressed came in waves. Flooding my mind with reels made of the sweetest poison. The very kind that left me a shell of who I once was.
"Bryan," I said, a little sharper than I intended. I refused to let him see how much his presence before me affected me.
He took a couple slow steps closer, eyes sweeping over me like he was sizing up a painting he'd sold years ago. "Don't look so surprised. What else could you be doing her
