She touched him like she owned him. And he let her. That hurt more than it should have.
Despite Kairos's insistence that Victoria and Isabella leave, they didn't. Not immediately. Victoria cited "family business" that required discussion. Isabella simply settled onto the couch like she'd never left, crossing her long legs and looking expectantly at Kairos.
"Don't be rude, darling. We've come all this way. Surely you can spare an hour."
Kairos's jaw clenched, but he didn't throw them out physically. That wasn't how people in his world operated—they were too civilized for direct confrontation. They weaponized politeness instead.
Elara found herself trapped in her own home, watching Isabella make herself comfortable with the ease of someone who'd spent significant time here before.
"Where's the good scotch?" Isabella asked, already standing and moving toward the bar in the living room. "Still in the same cabinet?"
