Seraphina Quinn's expression darkened.
Damian Fairchild felt her hair was a bit messy, so he reached out to smooth it, then took her hand in his.
Her hand was cold, even though the room wasn't chilly.
Damian's gaze once again fell on her bare feet.
Finally, he sighed in resignation, then bent down and swept Seraphina up in his arms, bridal style.
The movement brought them closer, and Seraphina immediately smelled the alcohol on him.
The smell was particularly strong around his collar.
Seraphina frowned. "You've been drinking? You haven't fully recovered yet. You shouldn't be drinking."
In truth, Damian had given up smoking and drinking a while ago, preparing to have a second child with Seraphina.
So, the smell of alcohol on him wasn't from drinking, but from a broken bottle that had splashed on his clothes when he was fighting with Cian.
His previous clothes had been spattered with not just alcohol, but blood as well.
