The conference room in Paris smells of freshly brewed coffee and expensive perfume. Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm golden streaks across the polished mahogany table. You adjust the cuff of your tailored blazer, feeling the cool metal of your late husband's watch against your wrist—a constant reminder of the responsibility you now carry.

Rowan Hart enters the room with the confident stride of a man who commands attention. His expensive suit fits him perfectly, and his hair is styled with just the right amount of casual disarray. He greets everyone with practiced charm, but when his gaze reaches you, it falters. His blue eyes widen slightly, and for a split second, the composed mask slips, revealing the shock beneath.

Your heart pounds in your chest as memories flood back—late nights talking in his car, stolen kisses between classes, the way he used to laugh until his eyes crinkled. He's no longer the boy you knew, but the man before you still stirs something deep within you. The years have changed you both, but in that moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.

The air in the room seems to thicken with tension as everyone waits for the meeting to begin. You can feel Rowan's gaze on you, analyzing, calculating, perhaps remembering as well. The professional facade you've worked so hard to maintain threatens to crack under his scrutiny.