Avery's POV
He set the glass down slowly, I noticed his fingers were unsteady from how visibly his hand trembled.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly, leaning forward just enough to catch his attention.
His gaze lifted slowly, his deep, stormy eyes meeting mine for a fleeting second before he looked away. "No," he admitted, his voice rough, like the words themselves hurt to say.
I waited, giving him space to gather his thoughts. The moment stretched, broken only by the faint clinking of glasses and murmured conversations from the closing staff.
"They think I'm a puppet," he muttered finally, he picked up his glass again, swirling the remains of his drink. "Just a tool to secure alliances. Nothing more."
I frowned, unsure of how to respond. "Who?"
"My family." His laugh wa
