Viona's POV
My hands clenched tightly at my sides, refusing to move to shake his hand.
My eyes, full of anger, locked onto his calm gaze, the dimpled smile telling me he'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. But shouldn't he have been shocked to see me?
Wait… I had been too hypnotized by his sinful presence to remember one thing.
"Are you the grandson of Mrs. Delano?"
He didn't answer my question. Instead, he smirked and bowed his head slightly.
He pulled back his dangling hand and, with an aura that demanded attention, shoved both hands into his trouser pockets.
The sight made me admire the raw masculinity standing before me all over again.
What the hell was happening to me? Why was I like this?
I'd known him too long, and I already knew his presence always left an impression like a cold, grim reaper—something no one wanted to mess with.
