RHYS’S POV
I noticed Fiorella’s breath hitch when I told her I was studying her, before her eyes fell shut.
The reaction lingered in my mind long after the restaurant disappeared behind us.
She had actually believed I brought her there to talk about the past.
The thought was almost amusing.
Fourteen years had passed, yet she still made the mistake of thinking I was looking for reasons where there were none.
She had been frightened, angry, exhausted, hungry, and drunk.
Exactly where I needed her.
I stared at her as she slept beside me, her face soft and innocent—deceitful and dangerous.
The car hit a bump and, as if mocking me, her head fell onto my shoulder.
She shifted but didn’t wake.
I should have pushed her away but instead, I remained still, even when her hair brushed aga
