She looks at me like I stole something, eyes narrowed, studying me like a puzzle she means to solve.
“I didn’t come home last night because I had something to attend to,” I say, watching as she steps closer, those same narrowed eyes pinning me. She draws in a breath, inhaling deeply.
“That’s a woman’s perfume,” she says, accusing, gaze locked on mine.
I lift a brow and sniff the collar of my shirt, then exhale. Katya. She cornered me as I was leaving the house, almost like she’d been waiting, wouldn’t surprise me if she had.
“Who were you with?” Claire asks. Her brows pinch together. I hadn’t taken her for the jealous type, but after the way I shut her out last night, I get it.
“No one important,” I answer honestly, taking her arm and guiding her down the hallway. “I told you, Zakya,
