Lily’s POV
Dinner with Andrew Sterling was… torture pure torture.
The restaurant was silent except for the occasional clinking of cutlery and murmured conversations from nearby tables. Andrew sat across from me, the golden light from the chandelier tracing his sharp jawline, the edge of control in every movement.
He barely looked up from his meal, but every time his eyes did meet mine, I felt stripped bare — like he could read everything I wasn’t saying.
“Eat,” he murmured once, voice calm but commanding. “You’ve barely touched your food.”
I obeyed, mostly because his gaze left no room for argument.
And because I wasn't in the mood for arguments
After dinner, the silence between us stretched like a tight rope — one wrong step, and I’d fall right into the dangerous thing simmering b
