{Lisa’s POV}

I barely let my gaze linger on him even as he said ‘look who’s back,’ again.

He stood there like a stain that refused to be washed out, comfortable in the middle of the studio floor as though Red Loom had hired him to do something. I would have addressed him. But my target was not Bryan… yet. I had bigger prey to hunt, and that was his precious Selena.

So I focused on the folder in my hands, the notes scrawled across the fabric charts, and the assistant who came bustling toward me, cheeks flushed, clutching a clipboard.

“Miss Stormrider, here are the numbers for the showcase,”...