She was the last person he wanted to see.
And the only one who ever saw through him.
"You're late," he said, not bothering to look up.
Celeste stepped into the glass office, heels clicking like a declaration of war. "You own the place, Aron. I figured punctuality wasn't your kink."
His eyes finally met hers-still cold, still infuriatingly unreadable. "I thought you were in hiding."
"I thought you were in hell," she shot back. "Guess we both got disappointed."
Seven years apart.
One contract.
And too many words they never said.
-------
Celeste Sinclair-once the hidden jewel of a royal empire, now a woman shaped by exile and silence. She's a fighter in heels, all sharp edges and quiet ache.
Aron Ashford-the brooding billionaire heir to a legacy of loyalty and control. Cold, unreadable, untouchable. Until her.
They were never meant to orbit the same world again.
But fate doesn't care about what's meant to be. It only cares about what must collide.
And some collisions don't end. They ignite.