With a casual nod, Ross turned and walked out, leaving her in the suddenly quiet room.
The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo, louder than it should have, amplifying the lingering tension he left behind.
Karen exhaled slowly, attempting to shake off the fluttering in her chest and the strange mix of relief, irritation, and something she couldn't quite name.
She sank into the edge of her chair, her fingers brushing over the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead.
Her pulse was still racing, a leftover heartbeat from the adrenaline that had spiked during their encounter.
It wasn't just his fame or his reputation—it was the way he had looked at her, so direct, so deliberate, as though he could see straight into her mind.
That glance alone told her something crucial: this was far from over.
Karen let out a soft sigh, leaning back and closing her eyes.
