There was something off. Deeply off. And I was sure it wasn't just in my head.

The way Daniel looked at me—sharp, calculated, like he was dissecting me with his eyes—made me instinctively uneasy.

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones messing with me, but suddenly, this house felt far more complicated... and far more dangerous than I'd imagined.

Henry was warm, kind. Vincent tried hard to play the part of a loving husband.

But Daniel? He ...