Does he think I'm carrying state secrets?
She offered no argument, just a tight smile as she began walking down the corridor. The security men flanked her on both sides, keeping formation like she was some kind of queen—or prisoner.
And yet, people stared. Again.
Whispers floated through the air like trailing smoke.
"That must be her."
"Is that the wife of Ashton Devereux?"
"Why so many guards? Is she in danger?"
"She must be important…"
Danelle's jaw tightened, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she tried to maintain composure. But inside, she burned with discomfort. It felt like the weight of a thousand eyes was pressing into her spine.
What the hell is Ashton thinking, surrounding me with this kind of security? Does he think I'm fragile? Or that I'll run?
Either way, she didn't like it.
She was no damsel.
She could fight her own battles—and she had.
