Cornelia's POV
The tension in the room was suffocating as I stared across the mahogany desk at the man who had turned my world upside down.
"Mr. Dolf," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
Two years had passed since I last saw Griffin Dolf during that breakfast at their family home. He looked exactly the same, except for the glacial coldness that now dominated his piercing gaze. The warmth I once mistook for fatherly affection had vanished completely.
"Sit down," he commanded, gesturing toward the leather chair positioned directly across from him. "We need to have a conversation."
I lowered myself into the seat, my spine rigid with defiance. "I know you sent that message."
There was no point in dancing around the issue. I wanted this confrontation over so I could return to David, where I belonged.
