t life, Ethan Cole was a ghost, a name attached to m

d the floor of the convention center, a place filled with nervous energy and the low hum of servers. I found him at a small

Isabella had, with jeans and worn-out sneakers. He was talking animatedly to a potential investor, his hands moving as he described his vision. He had a charisma

face in the crowd. I felt a cold knot in my stomach

rker in a hurry, wobbled and tipped. A large, steaming u

but not f

ing the wall of a neighboring booth. Ethan Cole was standing where I had been, his arm

pain, clutc

he asked, looking at me, hi

was the catalyst for my destruction h

ofusely. People were starting

a. Her eyes were locked on Ethan, and her face was a mask of

m. The way she looked at him, the gentle tone she used... it was a tone I hadn' t heard directed at me in years.

brush it off, but he was clearly in pain. "The coffee ju

inally landed on me. For a split second, ther

oing here?" Her voice

rea," I said, m

tention was already back on Ethan. "We

station. She coddled him, her movements full of a tenderness that was like a physical blow to my gut.

ave had vanished. This was not jus

convention center, the noise and energy fading behind

stries that dominated the skyline. I was going to do it now. No lawyers,

ars, looked surprised to see me. "Mr. Mill

id, walking past her de

s opened onto her sprawling executive suite. Her perso

ling glass wall of her p

ng between his legs, carefully applying a bandage to his burned arm. Her movements were slow, intimate.

forting kiss. It was dee

elped her finance, on the desk I bought for her as a housewarming gift. I

to the elevator, my footsteps silent on the plush carp

a force of nature. You