His brows drew together as guilt coiled tightly in his chest. How terrible could he have been to treat her so coldly, despite knowing from his own intel how much she had endured since her teenage years?
It felt as though a hot rod pressed against his chest, searing through the layers of his restraint.
He brought the steaming cup of coffee to his lips, taking a casual slow sip. The bitter taste which he had grown accustomed to, burnt harshly on his tongue this time. It was unbearable.
Still, he swallowed it hard.
Then came a soft knock on the door.
Zane turned slightly, his composure returning, and spoke with quiet authority.
"Come in."
The door opened with a low creak, revealing a woman dressed in an elegant designer ensemble with a clutch in her grasp, her posture graceful and controlled as ever.
