Maya's POV
We had all gathered at Damian's for a relaxing day of swimming and barbecue. It had been roughly two weeks since the arrest of Naomi—that absolute psycho—and everything had seemingly returned to normal.
Well, almost everything. I couldn't help noticing how fidgety Damon had been lately. Just now, he'd walked far away from our group to take a call, his body language screaming anxiety. This wasn't new behavior either. For days, he'd been distant, jumpy, constantly checking his phone and receiving mysterious messages. I'd brushed it off as work stress, not wanting to pry too much.
Scarlett plopped down on the lounger beside me, her eyes scrutinizing my worried expression. "What's eating at you, Tiny Cipher?"
"Nothing at all, Va," I replied, trying to sound casual.
