The Midnight Encounter​

A hand shot out with startling reflexes, catching her glass midair. Iced tea sloshed onto the man's unmistakably expensive Tom Ford suit.

"Sorry!" Bianca looked up - and forgot how breathing worked.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. A jawline that could cut glass and eyes like Arctic ice. This was the man who made returning to Aurora worthwhile.

He handed back the glass. "Be careful." His voice resonated like a cello's lowest notes, his cologne a subtle blend of sandalwood and storm. Then, without preamble: "Give me your number."

Bianca's heart stuttered. She scribbled it on a cocktail napkin, but before she could introduce herself, he pocketed it with a terse, "I'll contact you," and vanished into the crowd.

Floating back to the table, Bianca announced, "I just met the man."

Daisy scoffed. "Unless he's Julian Knight-level hot, I doubt it."

"Julian who? This man was perfection." Bianca fanned herself. "He asked for my number - no games, no cheesy lines. Just pure, confident demand."

Sophie's phone buzzed. "Bianca, you got a text."

Lin Hui's message read: Take the Vertex case. Opposing counsel is Julian Knight. Aggressive. Be ready.

Bianca smirked. "Looks like I'll be schooling Julian Knight soon." She raised her glass in a toast. "And as for Mystery Man? He doesn't know it yet, but he's mine."