Dinner arrived quietly.
Plates were set down by Luca without a word, silverware placed with precision, glasses filled and aligned. Then he was gone, leaving the room swallowed by silence.
It pressed against my ears.
Zander sat calmly, his posture relaxed, attention fixed on his food like I wasn’t even there. No glance. No acknowledgment. Just slow, deliberate movements of his fork.
I picked at my meal, appetite warring with nerves.
Is he really this angry?
Or is this another game?
My eyes drifted to him without permission. He didn’t look back.
Was it about the study?
The chair?
The picture?
The thought of that photo sent a sharp twist through my stomach. The way his face had changed. The way his control had cracked for just one second.
I forced the thoughts away and focused on
