The scene made itself

She saw him before he saw her.

And for a second, she almost forgot to breathe.

He stood there like sin in a suit like fuck he looked impossibly composed, devastatingly handsome, the kind of man who could ruin someone with a glance and make it feel like an honor. The tailored black suit fit him like it was stitched directly onto his body, outlining the broad strength of his shoulders and the lean lines of his frame. The first two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, exposing a faint edge of tan skin that made the look seem both deliberate and effortless.

His dark hair was slightly tousled, not messy just enough to look touchable. His jawline was clean, sharp enough to cut glass, the kind sculptors could only dream of. And his eyes, those icy grey eyes, those stormy, unreadable eyes scanned the crowd with the kind of control that made people straighten just to be near him.

There was something magnetic about Cassian Wolfe.

A gravity that pulled at her even when she wanted to hat