Ashley’s POV
The cab finally pulled up in front of the fashion house, and I barely caught my breath before rushing inside. I was late, and the thought of Steven's reaction made my heart pound harder.
A woman near the entrance spotted me instantly. “Are you Miss Ashley Green?”
“Yes, that’s me,” I panted, trying to compose myself.
She nodded. “You’re expected on the fourth floor.”
I muttered a quick thank you and hurried to the elevator. My palms were clammy as I rode up, my heart racing with dread.
When the doors opened, there he was: Steven, seated on a leather couch, looking calm but with a dangerous edge. Liam stood beside him. Steven glanced at his watch, raising a single eyebrow as he met my gaze.
“Right on time,” he said flatly, his voice slicing through the air like a knife.
I glared at him, almost daring him to say something more. But before he could, Liam’s soft voice broke the tension. “I hope you had no trouble finding the place?”
“No, not really,” I replied, forcing a smile
