But it was still a waste because the woman’s personality was, well, non-existent. Her nickname was dead-on accurate; she was the absolute definition of an ice princess. Not my style at all. Unfortunately, for whatever fucked-up reason, she had gotten it into her head that I was her style. Even that day when I’d stormed into Felix’s office to bollock them all for what they’d done to my sister, even then, distracted as I was by my anger, I’d noticed her staring at me. Christ, the woman could stare. It was seriously creepy if you asked me.
