Davina's POV
I perched rigidly in the passenger seat of Irvin's polished black vehicle, my fingers clenched together in my lap.
The leather beneath me felt frigid, and the quiet stretching between us made me uneasy.
I sneaked a peek at Irvin, whose attention remained fixed on the street ahead, his face serene and impossible to read. Why was he treating me with such kindness? Actually smiling? None of it added up. This version of Irvin was completely foreign to me.
What's his real game here?
My thoughts spiraled through scenarios, each one more disturbing than the previous. Could this be some twisted prank? An elaborate trap?
I'd witnessed how he handled others—harsh, distant, merciless. I'd been his target countless times before. And suddenly now—
As we neared my job, Irvin smoothly steered to the curb, stopping near the front entrance. I faced him, my pulse hammering.
I pressed my lips together, fighting to keep the questions burning inside from spilling out.
