Then, she pushed the door open.
The laughter died. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to her, wide with a surprise that curdled into pity and mocking amusement. Preston and Caleb were sprawled on a leather couch. In a large armchair at the center of the room sat Damian. Perched on the armrest beside him, a delicate, perfect bird in a whisper of a white dress, was Seraphina Vance.
Aurora’s gaze locked on her husband. The others ceased to exist. She walked across the room, her steps feeling disconnected from her body, and placed the cake box on the low table in front of him.
