Amani Laurel Saint was the kind of woman who made silence follow her. She stood tall and poised, with a natural elegance that couldn't be taught—only inherited.
Her skin was smooth and radiant, the deep tone of polished bronze kissed by the sun. High cheekbones sculpted her face with striking precision, and her bright brown eyes —an impossible contrast against her complexion held both storms and secrets.
Thick, jet-black hair tumbled past her shoulders in soft, glossy waves, framing a face that was equal parts danger and allure.
Her full lips rarely smiled, but when they did, it was like a weapon unsheathed—sharp, disarming, unforgettable.
This was the woman who had torn Damien Cross into pieces and disappeared into the wind.
And with just a phone call from Ryan Hastings — she was back.
Amani wasn't soft, she was anything but emotional, vulnerable and weak, but when it came to Damien, she forgot herself.
