Who the f***k was she hiding from?
Or what?
I watched her face—carefully blank, but there was tension in her jaw, in her shoulders, in the way she tucked the necklace back beneath her shirt like it burned.
Too smooth.
Too prepared.
Mom didn’t push. Of course she didn’t. That little smirk of hers said she already suspected something.
But me?
I was already halfway down the spiral.
Was I going to overthink this?
Probably.
Was I going to follow her the moment she stepped out of this room and wait—wait until that necklace came off, until her real scent hit the air like a storm?
Absolutely.
And if she turned out to be mine?
I didn’t know if I’d kiss her or break something first.
Because I didn’t like being played. And if she was my mate, and she knew it... and she hid it from me—
