Eugene's POV
The phone buzzed against the polished mahogany of my office desk.
I didn't have to look at the screen to know who it was. My hand moved instantly, sliding the device into my palm. The message from the unsaved number was short, but it made every muscle in my jaw lock tight.
Emily thinks you have a girlfriend. She noticed how much you smile now. We are playing with fire, Eugene. The mask is slipping.
I stood up from my leather chair, walking over to the wide glass windows that looked out over the city. A heavy, dark tension wrapped around my chest. She noticed. My own daughter, the girl I had spent twelve years protecting behind high walls of freezing silence, was starting to see right through me.
I looked at my reflection in the dark glass. I didn't see the cold, ruthless
