She said it all with a sweet little smirk.
Weston shot Lyra a look–soft, adoring. He’d never seen her like this before. Feisty. Cute. Kinda dangerous.
Across the glass, Renee’s eyes burned. In her head, Lyra was still the girl who got lucky. She’d only ditched Joel for a minute. Lyra had swooped in.
But how was she the one Joel died protecting? How did Weston freaking Windsor end up marrying her?
Renee sneered. “Brag all you want, Lyra. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got your bone marrow. I’m alive because of you. Bet that haunts you.”
Weston tensed, ready to bite back. Lyra just squeezed his hand and smiled, calm as ever.
“If you had a soul, maybe. But since you don’t, I sleep like a baby. Heard prison’s been brutal, though. Might hit up Alice Swift… see if she’s keeping you comfy.”
Renee went white. “You wouldn’t!”
