Damian didn't move.
He stood there behind her, silent and assessing, like he was deciding whether to push or to wait, or maybe to give in to what she wanted. He wanted to see how desperate she was to go out. What was she trying to achieve by leaving the house? Perhaps to search for who the mysterious caller was. But he kept his taught to himself.
Ava kept her back to him for a moment longer, breathing carefully so he wouldn't hear the panic caught in her throat.
Slowly, she turned to look at him
His eyes were already on her.
He didn't look angry, anger would've been easier. This was sharper, controlled and calculating. The kind of look men like him used when they'd spotted a hole in someone's story and were waiting for the rest of it to split open. He was such a hard person for her to read, which made it harder for her to think of a convincing lie that he could easily buy.
Ava forced out a breath. She needed a new strategy, a believable one.
