Ronan’s expression goes still.
Not angry. Not surprised. Worse.
Controlled.
The kind of control that only happens when someone is reacting very carefully to something they already expected to see.
The apartment suddenly feels too small again. Too quiet. The air between us tightens until it feels difficult to breathe.
His gaze stays locked on the contract lying on the coffee table.
“You signed it,” he says at last.
Not a question. A fact.
My stomach knots instantly.
“You already knew that.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. “I told you last night to forget about it.”
The low steadiness in his voice unsettles me more than yelling would have. There’s something restrained underneath it. Something dangerous trying very hard to stay leashed.
Slowly, Ronan pushes away from the wall.
Every m
