But when I turned, there he was.
Dark hair. Bright eyes. Face carved with cold, pitiless rage.
Christian.
My trapped sob finally broke free.
As angry as I’d been when I’d found the files, and as much as he’d betrayed my trust in the past, there was no one I’d rather see at that moment than him.
“Stella.” Relief softened the razor edges of his fury.
He said my name like a prayer, a whisper so raw and heartfelt it obliterated any resistance I might’ve had.
I didn’t think. I didn’t speak.
I just crossed the room and crumpled into his arms.