“Hey,” Draxon hesitated, then asked, “Do you know the people at the next table?”
I curled my lips and replied, “Yes, I do.”
Draxon gently held my hand. “If you’re unhappy, crying might help you feel better.”
I turned away, blushing, but my movement froze. Zevian and the girl had parted ways and now he was staring directly at me, his gaze fixed intently on Draxon holding my hand.
Zevian’s expression was one of barely contained fury.
I mentally apologized to Draxon, then turned my hand to clasp his and flashed a provocative smile toward Zevian.
The first to react was Winston Landers, the man seated next to Zevian.
The Landers Family had long depended on the Maxwell Family, so Winston was always the first to jump in, whether to flatter or stir up trouble.
“Vespera Darkwood? What are you doing here?” Winston shouted.
I shrugged, maintaining my composure as I took a sip of wine, my hand still clasped around Draxon's.
Winston’s face turned a shade of red, his anger barely contained. “Let go! Have you no shame? Do you even know what you’re doing?”