ASTRID’S POV
I ended the call with a smile on my lips.
The curve of amusement lingered as I lowered the phone from my ear and rested it against the table.
Seraphina Lockwood was…refreshing.
Dangerous, certainly.
Refreshing, nonetheless.
My thumb brushed the moonstone ring on my middle finger as I considered my stolen—now recovered—shipment.
“Well,” I murmured, almost to myself, “that settles that.”
“What settles what?”
I lifted my gaze, my thumb still resting on the stone.
Damian Rooke sat opposite me, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair as though this were a casual meeting between friends rather than what it actually was.
A negotiation that had already begun to unravel.
I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other as I studied him openly. There was something different about him today—not in appearance, but in the way he held himself.
Taut. Restrained.
