"You may go," Zane dismissed him.
"Shall I place your order? It's been a while since you last ate."
Hearing that, Zane's thoughts drifted and the image of her boldly shoving a spoonful across his face, grinning as if the world belonged to her, flashed in.
Normally, his thoughts were consumed by revenge, by plotting how to make her suffer. But this time… something strangely felt different.
Had he let her get too close?
Adjusting his glasses while he looked unreadable, Zane replied. "The pub doesn't make anything worth eating anymore. Order from a good five-star restaurant instead."
"Understood, sir."
Damien turned away, leaving Zane in his office alone.
Zane accidentally touched his bruised nose, wincing at the sting—it felt like he had been struck with a hammer instead. He hadn't expected that tiny forehead of hers to pack such a punch.
He wouldn't let her off so easily.
How dare she keeps acting defiant?
