Eating lunch at a Michelin-starred restaurant with panoramic views of Obsidian City wasn’t usually an uncomfortable experience, but today, if I didn't find a way to digest my food, I was going to choke on the tension.
I lifted my gaze from across the crisp white linen table to look at Damon. He was slicing his rare steak with clinical precision. When his dark, storm-grey eyes flicked up to catch my stare, I immediately dropped my gaze back to my plate, aggressively cutting into my own meat as if it had personally offended me.
What had happened in the Lamborghini was too raw, too humiliatingly one-sided to just ignore. I set my heavy silver cutlery down, preparing to launch a strategic verbal offensive, but the sharp vibration of Damon’s private phone interrupted me.
He checked the calle
