Emily’s POV
My hand on Ilay’s arm was steady, a stark contrast to the earthquake happening inside my chest. Every step away from Jin felt like walking through quicksand. The weight of his gaze was a physical pressure between my shoulder blades, but I refused to look back. I had given him my final line, my cold, calculated exit. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing it crack.
“Well, that was certainly more entertaining than the canapés,” Ilay murmured, his voice a low rumble of amusement. He guided me toward the bar, his presence an oddly solid anchor in my swirling storm of emotions. “I must admit, I didn’t expect him to break a glass. Very dramatic.”
I forced a light, airy tone I didn’t feel. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. The man clearly has a problem with fragil
