Clinton's POV
Slowly, I turn back to him. “What about her?” I try to sound calm, but my voice cracks just enough to betray me.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me about her?”
That suspicion I’ve been chewing on all night is right there, mirrored in his eyes, waiting for me to confirm it.
I say nothing, frozen in place, letting the silence stretch between us. He waits. I can feel the weight of it, the slow shift of power, the quiet assertion that he has the upper hand now.
“Did Alpha Damon’s men hurt you?”
He changes the topic abruptly, deliberately. My throat tightens. He knows. I can feel it in every nerve, every hollow space in my chest, yet he acts like he doesn’t. Pretending. The best-dad act. It’s infuriating.
“You also know we're dating, don’t you?” The question slips o
