Joanne spun around to find Zane looming mere steps away.
The bespoke suit clinging to his frame? She'd handpicked every detail with him—the luxurious fabric, the impeccable cut, all designed to accentuate his powerful physique.
She watched as he closed the distance with predatory grace, the event coordinator finally recognizing him with sudden deference.
"M-Mr. Grey..."
Zane didn't blink. "Send me the bill."
"N-not necessary! We'll replace it immediately!" The man vanished faster than a dropped champagne flute.
Joanne's feet itched to flee, but basic decency demanded gratitude after his intervention. Before she could speak, his voice—smooth as aged whiskey—cut through the tension. "Since when does my executive secretary tolerate lectures from two-bit event staff?"
No mockery, just t
