Damon's POV
I was nearly convinced my father had manipulated Sasha into returning solely to torment me, but I needed confirmation. What exactly was he offering her? We all knew reconciliation was impossible—even if this marriage charade succeeded temporarily, divorce was inevitable. Yet they persisted with remarkable determination. Why?
"Sasha, Aurora himself confirmed I had no knowledge about the patrol car's infestation," I said calmly, trying to reason with her as she fumed about the lice incident.
"You could have used your own vehicle, Damon," she retorted, eyes flashing with anger.
I shrugged. "Impossible. Two flat tires. The repair technician was scheduled to fix them at the station." The lie came effortlessly.
"Whatever," Sasha waved dismissively. "I've changed my mind and I'm here now. Throw that little tramp out because I'm moving back into our apartment immediately." She spoke with such entitlement, as if the property had always belonged to her.
