Elizabeth POV
I sat across from Christian at the long dining table, my fork untouched, my appetite is completely nonexistent. The chandelier’s light glinted off the silverware, too bright, too sharp—just like the man watching me from the other end.
He didn’t eat either. He was nursing a glass of whiskey, swirling it lazily, his expression as unreadable as ever.
Since the day my father cornered me, my mind had been everywhere. Restless. Distracted. The worst part was knowing Christian had noticed. He’d asked more than once what was wrong, and each time I gave the same pathetic excuse—“I’m just on my period.”
Who even comes up with something that stupid?
All my life I’d wanted one thing—peace—but right now, it felt impossible. My father’s messages came every day like clockwork, counting
