~Six Years Ago~
(Sean's POV)
I don’t know what she looks like. I saw her once from a distance—hooded, stage-lit. A voice and a presence I don’t forget. I’m hoping for a chance collision. I’m hoping the universe owes me one.
I cut across the lobby toward the bar. Amber sconces paint everything in honey. Heavy curtains. Crystal. Ice clinking in every direction—sharp, regular. A countdown I don’t recognize yet.
A man waves me over.
I know him. Not well. Industry face. The kind you shake hands with, forget, then remember at the next gala. He’s propped at the bar with a champagne flute and the loose grin of a man three drinks into someone else’s launch.
“Clark. Didn’t expect you here.”
“Last-minute.”
He leans in, grin stretching. “You know who’s here? Snow. The Snow. She’s right upstair
