The Aftermath
Isabella’s POV
The office felt different today.
Or maybe I did.
From the moment I stepped inside, my entire body was on high alert. Every small movement, every shift in the air, felt magnified.
Because he was here.
Adrian Sinclair.
The man who had made my life hell for the past months.
The man who had kissed me last night.
And now, as I walked toward my desk, I felt the weight of his gaze on me.
I refused to look at him. Refused to acknowledge the tension crackling between us like an exposed wire.
I focused on the sound of my heels clicking against the polished floors, the quiet hum of conversations around me, the way my fingers tightened around the coffee cup in my hands.
It was fine.
I was fine.
Last night had been a mistake.
That was the story I had decided
