I don’t blink. “I wouldn’t call it weakness.”
Camden snorts softly beside me, but I don’t look at him. I keep my attention where it belongs—on the man who could ruin Rowan’s chances with a single sentence.
Masden hums, gaze lingering. “So, Ms. Whitmore. How long have you two been together?”
There’s a pause that stretches too long.
This isn’t curiosity.
This is a test.
And Rowan’s not here to intercept, not here to smooth the story or twist it into something that benefits him. It’s just me, sitting on this porch with an ankle that hurts and a lie that suddenly feels too fragile to hold.
So, I channel everything he’s ever taught me—every lesson in silence in how to weaponize truth until it cuts clean. My pulse climbs, but I lean back against the bench anyway, letting my shoulders drop, tilting my head just enough to look at ease.
“Since undergrad,” I say, calm and quiet. “We had a bit of a hiatus.”
Masden smiles, the kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ah. A rekindled flame.”
I match it. “More like unfinished business.”
His gaze sharpens—interest or suspicion, hard to tell. “And now?”
Now my heartbeat is a steady drum in my throat..
Masden’s smile shifts, thinner. “Tell me, Ms. Whitmore, was the reunion intentional?”
I tilt my head slightly, crossing one leg over the other to buy a second. “We call it fate,” I say.
Camden gives a small, amused noise beside me, but I don’t look at him. My focus stays locked on Masden’s eyes, the way they don’t blink.
“I’m curious,” Masden says. “Is this arrangement of yours rooted in something more strategic… or emotional?”
There it is.
The real question.
I breathe once, slowly. Then I smile. “What part of law school taught you those were mutually exclusive?”
Camden mutters, “Damn.”
Masden chuckles, polite but empty. “Touché.”
He steps closer, hands clasped behind his back. The air tightens around us. “Forgive me for prying, Ms. Whitmore. You understand, of course, we’re always observing. Assessing strengths and whatnot.”
“You mean gossip.” I meet his gaze without flinching. “Wrapped in due diligence.”
Camden shifts beside me, realizing too late this conversation no longer includes him.
Masden’s grin grows satisfied. “You’re sharp.”
“I had excellent teachers,” I say smoothly.
His brow lifts, just enough to signal approval. “I can see why Mr. King indulges you.”
Indulges.
My jaw tightens. I force the breath in, hold it, and smooth my expression before he can see the slip. I can’t give him anything—not the sting, not the heat crawling up my throat.
