Dinner was the same as always—silent, heavy, filled with unspoken tension. It wasn’t unusual. Most nights, they ate at different times, barely crossing paths except on weekends, when family gatherings became an unwritten rule. But even then, it felt like they lived in different worlds.
Simone frowned slightly when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned, catching sight of Samantha’s hand gripping his shirt.
"Why?" he asked, voice low, glancing at her fingers. The way she held onto him—it wasn’t casual.
Drake, hearing Simone speak, instinctively looked up. Across the table, Lee and Leandro followed suit, their attention now drawn to the interaction.
"Clingy as ever, huh, Samantha?" Lyndon’s voice cut through the quiet, his tone dry, unimpressed. He wasn’t even looking at her, yet somehow
