He couldn't see my face, but fate never forgot mine
The warped lenses of his glasses caught the dim light, throwing his eyes into sharp focus.
Wren's breath hitched completely in his throat. His fingers locked around the leather edge of his portfolio so hard his knuckles turned pale.
The sharp, aristocratic jawline. The flat, bored brown eyes. The faint, white scar cutting through his left eyebrow. It was the rude billionaire from the arrival hall at the airport,the exact same man he had violently tackled onto the concrete sidewalk yesterday morning while a dump truck pulverized his luxury car.