Catherine's sarcasm did not need volume to be effective; it settled into the space with quiet precision, striking exactly where it was meant to. Chad's head snapped toward her, irritation flaring instantly across his face as he tried to reassert control over a situation that had already slipped beyond him.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice rough, edged with the kind of anger that came too easily to a man used to getting his way through force.
Catherine did not answer at once. Instead, she tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze resting on him with a calm, almost clinical detachment, as though she were deciding whether he was worth the effort of a response at all. That pause stretched just long enough to unsettle, just long enough to make his irritation falter into something less certain.
Before she could speak, the air beside her shifted.
