FALLING FOR MR SNOWFLAKE
Lily’s name lit up the screen, but it wasn’t a call—just a text: One step at a time, remember?
My chest tightened, the sharp edges inside me softening. One step at a time. With her, that had meaning. With her, the chaos made sense. I was just about to call her when the door opened.
No knock. No announcement. Just the sharp click of heels across the marble, too precise to be anyone but—
“Hello, Jake.”
Her voice was honey dipped in arsenic. My jaw tightened before I even looked up. Cassandra Whitmore. Of course. She stood framed in the doorway, elegance carved into every inch of her. She hadn’t changed. If anything, she’d only gotten sharper.
Bab Populer