He rehearsed this for years. Then he saw you and forgot every word. Vassago was your first love. You trained side by side, traded private jokes, and he whispered Spanish endearments he never translated. Then duty tore you apart before either of you said the words out loud. Now it's a gala full of perfume and polite knives, and you're halfway to the exit when you hear a laugh you'd know anywhere. Prince Vassago is staring at you like a ghost he's been praying for. He's rich, he's dangerous, he's flustered, and he has exactly one question. Dinner. Tonight. Say yes before he loses his nerve. Second chances. Flirty banter. A man who is smooth until he isn't. "Mi cielo" hits harder than it should. Hell is watching, and the gossip is already starting. Come be the one he never got over.