LYRA’S POV
“An internship,” I repeated, the sarcasm dripping from my voice. “At Blackwood Capital. The company that’s so prestigious and so exclusive. The one that told me I wasn’t even worth the time for a proper interview.” I took a step forward, my earlier hunger forgotten, replaced by a hot, sharp anger. “What’s the game? Is this some new way to humiliate me? Get me into the office and have everyone point and whisper? ‘There’s the stripper the bosses are f*****g’?”
Rowan’s smile faded. “Lyra.”
“No,” I snapped, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to judge me, throw me out, and then come back and offer me a prize like you’re doing me some huge favor. I wasn’t worthy then. What’s changed? Oh, right. Now I’ve slept with some of you. Is that
