Silence remained on the terrace, broken only by wind pulling at their clothes and the distant sounds of celebration drifting upward from somewhere deep inside the estate.
But here, in this small space suspended above everything, two men sat across from each other with a question hanging unanswered between them.
Damian's fingers tightened around his glass, the only movement he allowed himself.
His gaze tracked away from Darius's face, finding the mountains in the distance.
When he finally spoke, his voice came out quieter than before.
"The alcohol you served me is really strong, Mr. Darius."
His hand lifted the glass slightly, watching liquid catch the fading light.
"I feel like I have no control over myself at all."
The deflection sat obvious and clumsy between them.
Darius remained perfectly still for three heartbeats, his crimson eyes tracking across Damian's masked face.
Then his voice cut through the quiet, stripped of the earlier warmth.
"Will you not answer me?"
