Destined mate
A knock came at the door.
A guard entered, holding out a phone. “Sir. Incoming call. It’s on speaker.”
He placed it on the table and stepped aside. Another man took Cris’s place at the computer, already beginning to trace the number.
Damien stepped forward, hands clenching at his sides.
“Hello, Damien,” came Dmitri’s voice, smooth as silk.
“What do you want, D?” he said coldly.
“Aww. Is that how you talk to your fiancée?”