When Damien glanced at the clock on the wall of his study, a frown creased his brow.

7:30 p.m.

She was late.

He set the glass in his hand down and walked to the front door, a low sense of unease blooming in his chest. Ava wasn’t the type to be late without a reason, not after agreeing to meet him. Not after last night.

He stepped outside into the cooling evening air. The estate was quiet, the sky cast in hues of violet and deep gold as the last of the sun disappeared. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, pressing it to his ear.

One ring....