Claudia returned home just past midnight, clutching a couple of plush toys, and froze in the doorway at the sight of York waiting on the sofa.
Her eyes fell on the black lockbox on the coffee table as she walked over, her expression unreadable.
York frowned, his gaze fixed on the plush toys in her arms.
Their eyes met.
Claudia put the toys down and reached for the lockbox, but York pressed his palm down on the lid, stopping her.
They looked at each other again. Claudia withdrew her hand, stood up, and turned toward the bedroom.
From behind her, York's unhurried voice broke the silence. "Claudia, I know you're unhappy. Let's just talk about this calmly."
She stopped but didn't turn around. "There's no need. Even if I'm unhappy, I just have to endure it."
With York, it didn't matter whether they talked or argued; it never ended well.
York calmly opened the lockbox in front of him.
"If we can come to an agreement," he said, "I'll return this jewelry set to the Watkins family immediately."
Hearing him offer to return the jewelry, Claudia turned around.
She hesitated before walking back to him. "What do you want to talk about?"
York took her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him.
He looked into her eyes. "Let's talk about you coming home so late these past two days."
Claudia glanced from York to the lockbox on the table.
She understood his game. He was using her mother's jewelry as leverage, a way to force her into submission, to make her obey.
A slow smile curved Claudia's lips.
Playing along while secretly defying him—she knew that game, too.
Claudia adjusted her composure.
She spoke, trying her best to keep the perfunctory tone out of her voice.

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