At these words, the color drained from Damian Fairchild's face.
He instinctively looked over at Seraphina Quinn, his sharp, almond-shaped eyes staring at her, deep and unreadable. His voice was laced with a palpable hostility, heavy with pressure.
"What does he mean by that?"
Before Seraphina Quinn could say a word, Cian laughed.
"What else could it mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like, of course."
The veins on the back of Damian Fairchild's hand bulged, each one standing out in stark, angry relief.
He felt an intense fire raging in his chest, burning him from the inside out until his very core ached with a scorching pain.
He spoke again, his voice dangerously low and full of menace. "Aren't you going to explain?"
Seraphina Quinn felt a massive headache coming on.
She looked at Damian Fairchild's reddening, almond-shaped eyes, then glanced at Cian, who was watching them with detached amusement.
