Kimberly
The clinking of silverware against fine china was the only sound filling the dining hall as I sat stiffly in my chair, carefully slicing my food into smaller pieces.
The meal before me was exquisite—roasted lamb, seasoned vegetables, and a glass of red wine that Kendrick had personally poured for me.
But I could barely taste anything.
Kendrick’s presence loomed over me like a shadow, suffocating yet invisible. He hadn’t spoken much since I arrived at the table, but his eyes.
Those sharp, calculating eyes were constantly on me.
Studying.
Watching.
Testing.
I forced myself to take a bite, chewing slowly while my mind raced. He had given me more freedom, more space, but I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was out of kindness. Kendrick didn’t do kindness. Everything he di
