Ella
“So tell me,” Kane said, his voice smooth as polished steel, “are you one of those heartbreakers?”
For a second, I forgot how to breathe.
The diner felt too small. Too warm. Too bright. The scent of grilled onions and butter clung to the air, thick and suffocating. My fingers tightened around the notepad in my hand, the thin paper bending under the pressure.
He wasn’t just asking a question.
He was accusing me.
And worse—he was enjoying it.
I lifted my chin slowly, forcing my pulse to steady. I could feel Hailee’s eyes burning into the back of my head from behind the counter. Briggs had gone utterly still near the kitchen doors, his jaw clenched like he was ready to step in if this spiraled.
The woman in red—Kane’s so-called date—shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable now.
