Isabella had run straight into the last man she ever wanted to face so soon, Booker Blackwell.

Her chest burned with rage, anger clawing up her veins as she tightened her grip on the trolley.

“You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” Booker asked, his piercing silver eyes fixed on her face. Her pulse jumped.

Oh no. Did he recognize her?

She forced a nervous chuckle. “You must be mistaken. This is the very first time we are meeting. In fact, this is the first time I am seeing you ...