The Meeting
MARY’S POV:
I walked through the door of the café, and the first thing I noticed was the smell. Fresh coffee, warm pastries, the faint sweetness of vanilla and sugar. The second thing I noticed was the light, golden morning sun streaming through the windows, catching the dust motes floating in the air, making everything look softer than it really was.
The third thing I noticed was him.
Marl.
He was sitting at a table near the window, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee he wasn’t drinking. He looked different than he had the night he drove me home. More polished. More controlled. The leather jacket was gone, replaced by a dark suit that looks so costly. His hair was combed, his jaw clean-shaven and his expression carefully neutral.
But his eyes, those dark, intense eyes, were the same.
They found me the moment I walked in. And for a long, suspended moment, neither of us moved.
I hadn’t expected to see him here.
This was supposed to be a meeting with an old friend, A former senior from law school, someone I had almost joined in business years ago, before Alistair insisted I stay away. Someone who had reached out to me after hearing whispers of my divorce. Someone who had offered to help.
Not Marl.
What was he doing here? Had Alistair sent him? Was this some kind of warning? Some last attempt to intimidate me into dropping the divorce?
My hand tightened on the strap of my bag. I forced my expression to remain calm, even as my heart raced beneath my ribs.



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