Yvette's pov

The silence in this car was so thick. It even felt like a living thing. I hate this kind of silence, I prefer the noise that Manhattan brings and now it feels like I'm about to choke.

But inside this silent, leather tomb, it was just the engine hum and him. He was just sitting there, being all maddeningly calm.

He hasn't looked at me once since he told the driver to stop. He was completely focused on his tablet, his fingers swiping through whatever. He was the picture of ...