Daisy
Enrique was already there when I stepped into the living room, leaning against the edge of the couch as though he owned the place. His posture was casual, but nothing about him ever truly was. Even when he stood still, there was something tightly coiled beneath the surface, like he was a breath away from snapping at someone, or perhaps from walking out entirely.
I froze mid-step before I could help it. My stomach tightened, my palms suddenly clammy. I had planned to slip past the living room unnoticed, maybe claim I had something urgent to do in the kitchen, but fate clearly had other ideas. His amber eyes lifted, catching mine with unnerving precision, and my thoughts scrambled like startled birds.
“Princess,” he said, his voice deep, smooth, yet carrying that unspoken weight tha
