Having no answer to his worry, his brows drew together as guilt coiled tightly in his chest. It felt as though a hot rod pressed against his chest, searing through the layers of his restraint.
He brought the steaming cup of coffee to his lips, taking a casual slow sip. The bitter taste which he had grown accustomed to, burnt harshly on his tongue this time. It was unbearable.
Still, he swallowed it hard.
Then came a soft knock on the door.
Zane turned slightly, his composure returning, and spoke with quiet authority.
"Come in."
The door opened with a low creak, revealing a woman dressed in an elegant designer ensemble with a clutch in her grasp, her posture graceful and controlled as ever.
Zane's brows raised in surprise upon seeing Leah Everett there. He recalled the last time Leah had approached him; it was to inquire about his relationship with Selina. She had left that day satisfied, having confirmed that nothing had changed between them—cold and distant.
