Whether he referred to the begonias or Casey herself remained unclear.
Casey offered no response to his comment, maintaining her typically indifferent demeanor in his presence.
Her moments of melancholy outweighed those of joy.
âCasey, are you feeling unwell?â Davey inquired, his gaze unwavering.
âThe butler mentioned that you requested brown sugar water.
â
Casey couldnât discern his motives for asking, but she understood approaching each of his inquiries with caution.
It was all too easy to fall into his snares.
When she wished to evade direct answers, her default tactic of unreasonable irritability served her well.
âThe butler isnât a âbutler,â is he?â she retorted sharply.
Amused, Davey arched an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued by her response.
âHe might as well be your spy, monitoring my every move.
âSurveillanceâ would suit him better.
â Casey shot back with biting sarcasm.
âDo you find every detail of my life so fascinating? Of what I eat, drink, even when I go to the bathroom? Next time, Iâll just report directly to you.
Why bother with an intermediary?â
Her tone dripped with deliberate petulance, skillfully masking her true emotions beneath a veneer of annoyance.
A shadow passed over Daveyâs eyes.
Something significant was at play, for Casey to inadvertently reveal her consumption of the brown sugar water.
But what could it be?
Daveyâs thoughts turned to the newlywed Raegan, realizing that aside from her, nothing else seemed significant enough to have distracted Casey to this extent.
Casey adeptly portrayed a character with a fragmented memory, nearly convincing even him.
Alternatively, he refrained from shattering her illusion as long as it brought her satisfaction.
However, his leniency didnât equate to allowing her an opportunity to flee.
As usual, Davey responded with a smile, âIf it distresses you, Iâll instruct him to cease reporting.
I merely wished to demonstrate heightened concern for you.
â
Casey understood Davey well enough to discern his sharp demeanor and swift shifts to aloofness, particularly during intimate moments, which invariably left her at a disadvantage.
Contemplating their s@xual intercourses churned her stomach.
A man in his forties, still fiercely entrenched in his ways.
Yet, it wasnât too exhausting to replay and analyze various strategies.
Feigning coyness, Casey remarked, âDonât make promises you wonât uphold.
Donât feign concern.
â
Davey settled beside her, enveloped her in an embrace, and planted a ki*s on her forehead, asserting, âWhen have I ever failed to honor my word?â
âYou promised to take me out to play,â Casey retorted, embodying the role of the naive young girl with startling authenticity.
In truth, her emotional development scarcely surpassed that of a young girl.
Having endured half her life under Daveyâs confinement, ensnared and often unconscious, she hadnât been allowed to mature.
Deep down, Casey clung to a trace of innocence, entertaining the belief that she could outwit Davey.
Davey playfully pinched her waist, his tone teasing, âMaking such a fuss over such a trivial matter?â
Casey shifted uncomfortably, evading his touch.
âDonât touch me.
Iâm well aware I have no right to be upset.
Thereâs no need for reminders, Mr.
Glyn.
â She spoke with a touch of sarcasm evident in her tone.