Damon really thought he was being generous.
"You used to complain that I never took you anywhere," Damon said with that casual arrogance only he could pull off. "So you threw tantrums, and I got tired of it. This time, I’ll indulge you. Let’s go meet my friends. Try not to embarrass me."
He turned toward Mrs. Smith.
"Get the bedroom ready. And call the stylists over."
Mrs. Smith’s expression flickered between confusion and unease. Still, she nodded and made the call.
Once she was gone, silence filled the room, heavy, sharp.
Then Damon looked at her again, his voice calm but cutting.
"If they make jokes later, just smile and bear it. Don’t forget whose wife you are, you have to give me face."
For a moment, Sloane just stared at him, disbelieving.
She’d spent yea
