Satisfied with Darmiel’s answer and seeing his sincerity, Mr. Grayson shifted his gaze at his daughter.
The heavy crystal chandelier above the long mahogany dining table caught the morning light, casting sharp reflections across the remains of their lavish breakfast spread. The atmosphere in the dining room had turned completely formal, trading the playful teasing of moments ago for the serious reality of the future.
"And Ameelah, this time there should be no escaping," Mr. Grayson this time, darted an authoritative look to his daughter who looked up at him and nodded. His strict voice carried the weight of a father who had spent six years worrying over his runaway child. He set his porcelain coffee cup down onto its saucer with a sharp, echoing clink that signaled he would not tolerate
