POV: Adriana
The noise from the cutlery were the only sound that filled the dining room, yet my mind was far from the breakfast that was spread neatly before me.
My eyes kept betraying me, looking toward Darius at the head of the table. He looked completely at ease, scrolling through something on his tablet while sipping his coffee as though the world outside didn’t exist.
But I remembered. Infact I couldn't get it off my mind. The voice I had heard last night. That tone of his, cold and full of venom, a threat laced beneath every word.
Whoever had been on the other end of that phone call hadn’t been spoken to gently. And it hadn’t even been in English—Darius had spoken fluent Spanish.
I frowned slightly. I didn’t even know he spoke Spanish. What else about him didn’t I know?
But
