Rhea’s POV

I saw him before he saw me.

Vincent.

He was leaning against the wall with a drink in his hand, listening to someone talk but not really listening. He had the same controlled posture, the same unreadable face that used to make me feel safe and then completely destroyed. My stomach churned the moment I recognized him. Heat and something colder mixed under my ribs. I turned straight for the hallway that led to the exit, already calculating how fast I could get my coat and leave without anyone noticing.

I didn’t make it.

A hand closed around my upper arm, firm and familiar, and stopped me cold....