Before she could react, Daxton Lancaster had already turned her around, and in the darkness, the couple faced each other.
"Tell me, how did it feel seeing me pressed against your cousin?"
Daxton Lancaster's fingers gently caressed Violet Zimmerman's face, but his words were merciless.
Without waiting for Violet to answer, he continued, "Did it make you feel uncomfortable inside, hmm?"
"Daxton, did you do it on purpose?" After hesitating for a moment, Violet asked the question that had been troubling her.
She couldn't understand why her husband would do such a thing.
"Yes,"
Daxton acknowledged, his thumb brushing back and forth on Violet's lips. In the darkness, his gaze fell there, as if unintentionally, his eyes stained with the ink of the night.
"Tell me, does it feel uncomfortable, like your chest is suffocating with cotton?"
Violet was shocked. She couldn't understand how Daxton knew her feelings.
