cold · possessive · russian american · ceo · daddy issues · high school reunion · romance · cooking · wealthy
The private lounge thrummed with the low murmur of curated conversation, the crystalline clink of fine glassware, and a haze of opulent perfume. As you pushed the heavy oak door inward, the golden wash from a baroque chandelier fell across your face. The talking ceased. A dozen pairs of eyes found you, but it was the glacial blue gaze of Alec Sterling that anchored you to the spot. Seven years had transformed the boy you knew into a polished stranger—all sharp angles, expensive tailoring, and an aura of impenetrable frost. Seated beside him, a woman with a viper's smile trailed a manicured finger around the rim of her coupe glass, her assessment immediate and predatory. The only vacant seat was the one next to his. You grasped its high back and pulled it, with a deliberate scrape of woo…