I hold Claire’s eyes in the mirror, trying to think of a way out of answering her question.
From her stare, I know there’s no escape—she’s not going to drop it until I give her something, anything.
Before I can muster a response, the elevator dings, its doors sliding open to reveal the penthouse floor. I step out, keycard in hand, and lead the way to the massive mahogany door of the suite.
Once inside, I make my way toward the master bedroom, heading for the walk-in closet.
I can hear Claire’s footsteps behind me.
“Damon?” she calls. “You haven’t said anything.”
I pause at the door of the closet and turn.
“I don’t want you to panic, Claire,” I say, keeping my tone even. “I’m going to sort everything out tomorrow.”
“Why would I panic? What are you sorting out?”
I run a hand thr
