Despite the air conditioning humming at full blast, she felt an icy chill seep into her bones.
When Sinclair arrived, this was the sight that greeted him—Camilla, lost in self-reproach, her head bowed in silent torment.
His dark, piercing eyes softened imperceptibly, warmth flickering in their depths.
Without a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and moved toward her, his footsteps deliberately light.
Just as the overwhelming emotions threatened to suffocate Camilla, a familiar black suit jacket draped over her from above, enveloping her in its comforting scent.
"Sweetheart" Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at the approaching figure.
"What are you doing here?"
Given their plan to lure Jonathan into their trap, Sinclair shouldn't have revealed himself at this critical moment.
Sinclair sat beside her and effortlessly pulled her into his lap.
