Zara’s POV
"Hello?" A lazy, yet wary female voice comes through the phone. It's Ashley.
I clear my throat. "It's me, Zara."
A short silence, then a scoff. "Well, well, look who it is. If it isn't the famous victor, Zara." Ashley's tone is exaggerated. "What's the matter? Just finished ruining your sister's wedding and grinding your ex-boyfriend under your heel, and now you're so eager to flaunt your victory to a loser like me?"
"I'm not that bored," I cut her off coldly. "I'm calling to ask you something."
"Ask me? I don't think there's anything for us to talk about. Or is it that your new backer, the great Alpha Maxwell, couldn't satisfy you, so you're looking for some fun from me?"
I take a deep breath, ignoring Ashley's taunts.
"I'm here to ask you about my mother, Ave's, death,"
