Savannah's POV
Cherry-Dipped Chocolate
"Are you working for Dennis?"
The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. Disguise's entire body went rigid, his grip tightening on the ceramic bowl until I could hear it strain under the pressure. His masked face turned toward me, and even though I couldn't see his expression, I felt the shift in the air between us.
My heart hammered against my ribcage as I studied his reaction. Was he confused? Angry? Caught red-handed? The mask made it impossible to read him, but his silence spoke volumes. My fingers moved instinctively toward the butter knife on the table, ready to grab it and make a desperate run for the door.
The house had no cameras. I'd made sure of that. Triple-checked with the security company, had technicians sweep every room, even inspected my personal devices for any surveillance equipment Dennis might have planted. Everything came back clean.
