Damien's POV
"Show me your phone."
The words leave my mouth before I can soften them.
Aurora looks at me. Not startled. Not guilty. Just still.
Around us, the dinner keeps moving. People talking. Glasses clinking. My father is laughing too loudly at something one of the investors says. But all I can see is the photo on my screen and the message under it. She's not yours anymore, Cross. And she never really was.
Aurora glances once at my phone, then back at my face. "That is not how you ask for things." My grip tightens around the device.
Two weeks ago, that answer would never have come out of her mouth. Two weeks ago, she would have rushed to explain, rushed to smooth this over, and rushed to make sure I felt secure before she did.
Tonight she sounds almost calm.
That bothers me mo
