My hands were folded politely in my lap.
But my heartbeat was screaming.
He didn't say anything for a while.
Just leaned back, a picture of elegance and power dressed in aged wealth. Fingers steepled in front of him. Like he was in no rush. Like there was nothing urgent or ugly lurking beneath the surface of this impromptu dinner.
"Kael," he finally said, his tone too light to trust. "How is he treating you these days?"
I blinked, startled, my lips parting slightly before I caught myself.
"Sir?"
He smiled faintly, as if amused by my confusion. "My son. You still work closely with him, no?"
Closely was one way to put it.
Too close. Not close enough. Painfully close.
I nodded once. "Yes. Professionally."
Ewan's brow lifted just enough to be insulting. "Professionally, of course."
He let the silence stretch for just the right number of seconds before he added, "I hope he isn't too difficult. Kael has always… struggled to express himself."
