Chapter forty seven

A soft creak of the floorboards drew my attention. Damian. He stood silhouetted against the window, his broad form radiating an aura of concern that did little to ease the knot of tension tightening in my stomach.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that broke the suffocating silence.

Turning away from him, I forced a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Don't worry about me," I said, my voice tight. "I just needed some fresh air."

He walked closer, his presence filling the space beside me. "Annie, you haven't had a proper night's rest in days," he observed, his concern evident in the way his brow furrowed.

Before I could stop him, he reached out, the back of his cool hand brushing against my forehead. It was a simple gesture, a touch that once would have sent a thrill down my spine. Now, it felt like an intrusion, a reminder of the secrets and lies swirling around him.