Nathan Redgrave's handsome, aloof face was expressionless. He released his hold on Hannah, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked toward the villa.
Zachary Redgrave flashed his uncle a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Uncle, when did you get behind us? We didn't hear a thing."
"The moment you put your arm on her."
"Oh, well, Hannah and I are good friends. Sometimes we get a little familiar..."
"No need to explain. I don't mind."
Nathan Redgrave's voice was crisp and magnetic, but while the sound was pleasant, the words themselves were cold and apathetic. Frankly, they made you want to punch him.
'He doesn't mind because he doesn't care, does he?'
Zachary Redgrave trailed behind his uncle, wildly shadowboxing in the air, wishing he could give the scumbag a proper beating.
Hannah pressed her lips into a bitter line and followed them into the villa.
"Hannah, I had the kitchen make a special restorative soup for you and Nathan. Be sure to have plenty later."
