“You weren't in the room last night?” Camilla asked, eyeing Cyrus, as he stood in front of the dresser, adjusting his tie.

“You wouldn't want to risk getting hit or kicked. Who knows what I'd do next?” Cyrus said, not turning to face her, his voice devoid of emotion.

Camilla frowned, the weight of his word bearing down on her. He might have said it with no warmth or whatsoever, but she could tell how deeply it affected him.

After their little chat last night, she had fallen asleep in his arms. But when she woke up to use the bathroom in the night, Cyrus wasn't in the room, not...