–Damon–
Someone's tailing me. I can feel their eyes like a knife at my back. Most likely trying to determine whether the heir to the Blackwell empire is behind the illegal shipments they've been sniffing around. Pathetic.
They're wasting their time.
Every move they've predicted, my wife anticipated and dismantled days ago. While they scramble in the shadows, I've already shifted direction. A new plan. A cleaner one. My grin stretches, sharp and involuntary. I'm amused—and more than a little obsessed.
I can't stop thinking about her.
Even distracted, she runs our world with surgical precision. Her brilliance is unsettling. Addictive.
"Stop at the open fast food place," I said. "Then we head home."
My driver gave a short nod. We rolled into the greasy halo of the drive-thru lights. I placed an order—things Livana wouldn't normally touch. Greasy, strange, comfort food for mortals. I want her to taste something absurd tonight. Something unexpected.
