Avery's POV
Rowan and the others had been lead to a dinning area, Dylan had asked his attendants to ensure that they were comfortable while we stayed here and have a conversation.
Dylan's smirk remained fixed in place as I stood frozen, my mind racing to make sense of the situation. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension, weeks of resentment pressing down on my chest like a weight I couldn't shake.
I had expected a stranger, an anonymous dealer lurking in the shadows, not him, not the very man responsible for so much of Golden Ridge's suffering.
My jaw tightened, my hands curling into fists. "I'm not doing business with you."
Dylan arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Is that so?" He moved away from the fireplace, strolling toward a nearby table where a silver tray sat. "That's unfortunate. I had a feeling you'd be stubborn about this."
I ignored the jab, my voice cold. "You think I'd trust you of all people? After everything?"