I walked into the dimly lit penthouse, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. I wrapped my arms around myself , feeling the weight of my conversation with David settle heavily on me shoulders.
I felt so betrayed, not knowing whether to believe David or not. How was I so wrapped up in such a push and pull dilemma?. I knew Michael would be waiting—he always seemed to know exactly when i would return.
And there he was, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed on his chest, his gaze piercing as he watched me walk in. His face was set, jaw tight, and there was an intensity in his eyes i hadn't seen before. I could sense that the conversation we might have won't be a nice one.
"You're late," he said, his voice low and even, but there was a sharpness to it that made me pause.
I took a steadying breath. "I didn't realize I had a curfew," i replied, trying to keep my tone neutral, though my heart was pounding.
