Shedding his usual gentle demeanor, Silas Thorne's sharp edges were on full display. His eyes held a new, domineering quality, so cold and harsh that when their gazes met, Joyce Monroe's heart pounded in alarm.
After spending so many days with him, she had grown accustomed to his easygoing manner. She'd almost forgotten that a man of his stature in Northgate...
...would never be described by anyone as a "good person."
The Silas Thorne before her now had eyes flushed red from the alcohol. He stared intently at her, like a ferocious beast lying in wait in the shadows...
Utterly dangerous!
But after he took a sip of his drink, the cold light in his eyes vanished completely.
"Silas," Joyce Monroe said as she sat down on the sofa. "Why the sudden urge to drink?"
Silas Thorne said nothing, his fingers just caressing the glass in his hand. He sized up the distance between them. Though they were on the same long sofa, there was enough space for three adults to sit in the gap.
