LOVE UNDER CONTRACT
By the time Damien came in, I was sitting stiffly on the couch, my face pale, my hands clutching each other so hard my knuckles hurt.
He stopped at the door, his brows pulling together. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I swallowed, my lips dry. “Damien… I need to tell you something. I… I broke it.”
He tilted his head. “Broke what?”
I pointed at the pile of shattered porcelain on the floor.
Damien’s eyes followed my finger. His face didn’t change. No anger. No surprise. Just… calmness.
He walked closer, looked down at the mess, and then turned back to me with a straight face.