Damien stared at him, expression unreadable. Like something ancient had stirred awake beneath the surface.
James hesitated again—then added, “And then she asked for your number.”
At that, Damien blinked.
“She said you called earlier but it came up private. I forwarded her your personal line.”
“That number,” Damien said slowly, his voice is low, “isn’t given to just anyone.”
James met his eyes without flinching. “I know. But you said she’s not just anyone.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
Then Damien leaned forward, folding his hands.
“She has it now?”
“She does.”
Damien leaned back in his chair. A slow, measured motion.
Almost too measured.
Like he wasn’t doing exactly what he was about to do.
With the air of someone simply reorganizing his space, he opened the top drawer of
