His friends’ laughter echoed in her head. Fat, scarred shield.
He walked past her without a glance, heading for the built-in bar in the cavernous living room. The clink of a heavy crystal tumbler was the only sound. He poured two fingers of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light.
He took a slow sip, then turned. His expression was impassive, his eyes the color of a winter sky.
“Seraphina is back for good,” he said. His tone was as flat and final as a legal verdict. “It’s time we ended this.”
The words were another blow, but there was nothing left to bruise. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze directly. “So, it was all for her?”
He didn’t grant her the dignity of a lie. “I owed her. My family owed hers. You were part of the solution.”
