Ronan
Two days.
Just two damn days of silence, and she was already clawing at my attention like a cat in heat. Calls. Texts. Even one pathetic voice note that ended with a huff and a slammed door. Lila was persistent like a storm, beautiful to watch from afar, but a disaster when it got too close.
I’d ignored them all.
Until now.
I sipped whiskey, leaning on the polished mahogany of the rooftop bar’s counter. Soft jazz filled the air, its rhythm slow, a lazy kind of seductive. One of the bar dancer, Sienna, a sharp-mouthed woman was seated beside me, laughing at something I’d said. Her red lips curled around the rim of her glass, eyes trained on me like I was a game she couldn’t wait to win.
And then Lila walked in.
My glass halted halfway to my lips.
I’d seen her in plenty of moo
