As I walked through the busy restaurant, a fuss behind me made me halt and turn around.

A tray filled with food was spilled on the tiled floor as the waiter gaped at the scene with horror. The man standing beside him apologized. Getting out some cash, he handed it to the baffled waiter and hurried out of the door. His movement was tensed as he kept looking over his shoulder.

Wait, I knew him. I saw him before somewhere. But where?

Scrutinizing, my gaze followed him outside as he walked to the parking lot. The walls were made of glass, so I could see him properly.

Tall frame, gray hair peeking out of dark locks. Yes, it was the man I bumped into back in New York, at Mr. Cooper’s office. How could I forget that strange man?

What was he doing here?

FIFTEEN: YOU’RE MINE

I shook my head. Why did I care about what he was doing here?

I should just go back to the terrace.

Once back upstairs, I found the meeting was over and everyone was now enjoying their drinks, except Ace. He simply drank a glass of plain water.

And… that witch was now in my seat!

But his attention wasn’t on her. Instead, those stormy orbs were searching around for something. Until they landed on me. Was that relief that flashed over them?

He beckoned me to him with his head, but I turned around and went to Liza, who was talking to two of the Arabs beside the railings. Matt wasn’t here.

“Hey, where did you go?” Liza asked.

“Washroom,” I replied, standing next to her. Nodding, she returned to the conversation.

One of the Arabs’ gaze locked with mine as he flashed me a smile. I remember his name was Fazza. At twenty-something, with dark hair and tanned skin, he didn’t look bad. But the interest in his brown eyes didn’t match mine.

But out of politeness, I smiled back.

“How long are you working for Mr. Valencian?” he asked.

“It’s been just a week.” I averted my eyes from his awkward stare.

“Oh, so you’re new in this field too,” he stated. “I just joined some months ago.”

“You’re a designer?”

He nodded. “Yep, loved doing these drawings with paper and pencils from my childhood.”

This time, my chuckle was genuine. “Well, I still draw the designs with them. Doing it on the computer doesn’t feel connected.”

A grin spread across his face. “Looks like we’re on the same page then.” He glanced at my hand. “You’re not having anything. You need a drink?”

When I was about to answer, an arm around my waist cut me off. A gasp slipped through my lips as I was pulled against a hard frame. His familiar heady cologne tingled my nostrils.