This time, the reply didn't come immediately.
Grey stared at the screen, watching the empty space beneath his last message as if it might suddenly change.
He wondered if Lord Jethro was angry because Grey had refused his request.
There was no "typing..." and deleting this time. The silence felt intentional. He knew something was wrong with his last response, but his ego wouldn't let him send another message on top of an unanswered one.
He dropped the phone onto the bedside table, telling himself it was for the best that he hadn't agreed to meet anyway. Lord Jethro clearly wasn't thinking clearly. He was being reckless.
How long could they realistically keep sneaking around like this before someone noticed?
And the question that haunted him remained the same, heavy and suffocating: what would happen if they were caught?
What would they say?
What if people decided that Norman and his son had been innocent all along? What if the blame shifted?
