Dylan and Ava sprang apart. Ava's cheeks burned a deep crimson, and she jumped to her feet, nervously smoothing her clothes.
"What is it, Justin?" Dylan hissed, displeased. "Is it that urgent you couldn't wait for permission?"
"N-no, sir…" Justin stammered, holding out a bag. "I just…brought the fresh clothes for Madam." He risked a quick glance at her but immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.
Dylan snatched the bag and handed it to Ava, who snatched it from him and threw him a glare that could pierce through armor before storming toward the bathroom. Dylan watched her retreat with amused eyes, his lips curling into a smile. That smile was bright and could melt the heart of steel.
Justin watched him with a mix of awe and confusion, his mouth agape. He hadn't seen him smile like this for ages. It seemed that the brooding, cold Dylan had softened uncharacteristically.
