MICHAEL’S POV

She didn’t knock. She didn’t ask.

She walked in like she owned the place and went straight for the chair opposite my desk, my chair and sat down like we were equals.

Like nothing had ever happened between us. Like she hadn’t ripped out my soul three years ago and fed it to the wind.

Then she looked up at me with that same cool defiance, those emerald eyes too unreadable for someone who used to cry in my arms.

"Come sit," she said, brushing off invisible lint from her ...