Maya rose and began walking toward her.
Isabella’s instinct told her to walk away and ignore the woman. But the fury she had been holding back surged up again. Now that Maya had already provoked her, she wanted to let it all out. So she stopped, turned, and faced her husband’s girlfriend.
Oops… sorry, she thought with a sharp smile. Mistress would be the right word.
“I see you’ve shifted to Killian’s room again,” Maya sneered.
“That’s my room and my pack house,” Isabella replied calmly. But her declaration was sharp and louder than they sounded—like a clear challenge.
Maya gritted her teeth. “Don’t try to be over smart,” she snapped. “Listen carefully… that room belongs to me, and…” She paused, stepped closer, and locked eyes with Isabella. Her voice dropped, sharp and threatening. “…
