Scandal on Screen and a Forced Truce

ROMAN

The taste of her still lingered on my lips. Not literally—we hadn't kissed—but the memory of Vanessa in my arms during that dance haunted me like a ghost. I paced my office, unable to focus on anything besides the way she'd felt against me, the slight tremor in her hand when I'd held it.

My wolf was restless, clawing at my insides, demanding I chase after her. Six years apart, and my body still recognized hers like a map it had memorized long ago.

A sharp knock interrupted my brooding.

"What?" I growled.

Marcus pushed the door open, his face grim. "You need to see this."

He held up his tablet, and I felt my blood run cold.