The grand chandelier above them shimmered like stars trapped in glass. The mansion was silent except for the soft music echoing from a hidden speaker, slow and tender. Every corner of the room glowed gold, but nothing sparkled more than the way he looked at her.
He was leaning against the piano, sleeves rolled up, dark hair slightly messy like he had run his hand through it one too many times. His jawline was sharp, his eyes even sharper—but when they looked at her, behind her glasses, all that danger melted into something devastatingly soft.
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The Heart That Refused to Fall Comments