Hazel's POV
I hummed softly as I reviewed the designs spread across my desk. The prospect of seeing Sebastian tomorrow had put me in an unusually good mood. My fingers traced the lines of a jacket I'd sketched specifically for him, imagining how the fabric would complement his broad shoulders.
My phone buzzed, interrupting my daydream. The banking notification showed that the transfer to Sebastian had gone through successfully. Ten million dollars—a debt I no longer carried. The weight that lifted from my shoulders was immediate.
I'd barely set my phone down when it rang again. The name on the screen wiped the smile from my face.
Alistair Everett.
My thumb hovered over the decline button. I hadn't spoken to him since our last disastrous encounter. Against my better judgment, I answered.
"What do you want?" I kept my voice flat, emotionless.
"Hazel." His voice was smooth, familiar in a way that made my skin crawl. "We need to talk."
