DEVIL’s GRIP
he offered nonchalantly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her hip.
Mia’s jaw tightened, but before she could retort, Mike joined them. His eyes flickered over Hema appreciatively, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hema, you look stunning tonight.”
Zayden’s grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly. As Mike extended a hand toward Hema, Zayden smoothly intercepted, clasping Mike’s hand firmly. “Congratulations, Mike,” he said, his tone cool but cordial. “Mia’s a lucky woman.”
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