She had said she wanted to witness the most important moment of his life.
Standing amidst the crowd, Arabella Vanderbilt gazed intently at the man who stood in the brightest spot.
His appearance tonight, like a deity descended from heaven, rescued her from the cold abyss.
She was a woman, after all.
How could she not be moved by such redemption?
No, not just tonight.
From the moment he had entered her life, it had been so.
Joel Russo's tall and upright figure stood on high; his features were deep and unique—the kind of unfathomable calmness on his face was like a breeze, as if he could master any expression. He was composed and restrained, gentle and refined, indifferent and icy, sharp and edgy, serious and rigorous...
Each expression was played to perfection by him.
At this moment, he stood there, his no-nonsense demeanor exuding a captivating pressure from his very bones, arrogant and sharp.
His voice was calm as he spoke, unhurried yet somehow commanding submission.
