Chapter 3

When I got home, Hunter stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a tailored suit.

He held an Italian handcrafted comb, meticulously smoothing back the hair at his temples.

The sharp, slicked-back style enhanced his handsome, chiseled features.

"I have a work dinner tonight," he said without looking up.

Then, he pulled out his phone, a smile playing on his lips, and walked out the door.

That smile was identical to the one in Scarlett’s latest photos.

Carefree, tender, with an undeniable doting affection in his eyes and the curve of his mouth.

I remembered three years ago, he’d…