At the same time, he pressed a large bouquet into Avery's hands, the fragrance of fresh flowers rising between them. The unexpected gift contrasted sharply with the intensity of his presence, but somehow it fit him perfectly, both overwhelming and grounding.
Then Silas finally turned toward Eline, his gaze sharp, his voice carrying a weight that made the air itself feel heavier. "You were not in that dinner that day, it seems." His words rolled out like thunder, slow and deliberate, leaving no space for argument.
Eline gulped audibly, her confidence shriveling in the face of his overwhelming aura. Who was this man? This impossibly hot, terrifying man who held Miss Vale so confidently in his arms? And why—why—did it feel like he could crush her entire being with just one glance?
Her questions piled up in her head, but the moment he spoke again, all of them shattered into silence.
"Avery is my wife. Mrs Avery Silas Blackwood!"
