Betty's POV

“Or you can spend the night in my room,” he said without batting an eye. I had to remind myself that we had a guest.

Annoying bastard

I froze, fork hovering mid-air. Heat crawled up my neck, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I stabbed a piece of fruit and forced my gaze down to my plate, jaw tight.

The rest of breakfast dragged on in a haze of polite conversation and clinking silverware. The mood had soured, but no one dared address it ...