Keaton paused deliberately now, scanning the room with careful eyes, trying to read the expressions. He fully expected Avery to falter, even just a little to stiffen, to pale, to stutter or snap. His words were carefully constructed, full of enough logic and insinuation to be dangerously believable.
But to his surprise, Avery just smiled back at him.
That smile.
It wasn't forced, nor was it amused. It was the kind of smile that didn't reach the eyes the kind that sank like ice into your veins and warned that someone knew far more than they were letting on.
Keaton's breath hitched for a second, something tightening in his chest.He didn't like that smile. No—he hated it.
