Ross would make sure Ella never forgot the night he took her.
He'd etch himself into her body and memory so deeply that even Mario, despite everything, would understand why it had to be this way.
Yes, Ross thought, standing up and grabbing his keys. He wasn't just accepting the offer.
He was going to make it unforgettable.
"Ross, you're here," Mario said as he opened the front door.
He looked uneasy—his strong, handsome face shadowed by something between guilt and apprehension.
Ross could tell the man hadn't slept well. There were faint bags under his eyes, and his smile, though polite, didn't quite reach them.
Still, he stepped aside to let Ross in.
And then she appeared.
Ella.
Ross's breath caught for a moment, despite himself.
She stepped into view from deeper in the hallway, and for a second, everything around her seemed to slow.
She was every bit as stunning as he remembered—no, more.
