Damian's P.O.V.
Something wasn’t right.
I felt it in the way Rowan moved, the way his eyes lingered on us just a second too long before slipping back into that carefully curated ease. He was watching. Calculating. Waiting.
Kiera’s fingers brushed against mine beneath the table, a silent tether grounding me. I turned slightly, catching the quiet smirk tugging at her lips. She had seen it too.
“Think he knows?” she murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear.
I brought my drink to my lips, disguising my response. “He suspects. But that’s not enough.”
She chuckled, leaning in just enough to make it seem like we were caught up in something private. Her lips skimmed the edge of my jaw, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then let’s keep it that way.”
I fought the urge to grin. Kiera had a
