“I wanted him,” Vivian then said in a manner almost too quietly to hear. “I wanted something that had been yours.”
The honesty landed strangely.
It did not absolve her.
It did not even soften the memory of that veil.
But it made her smaller in my mind. Less a villain, more a wound with lipstick and no compass.
“You got him,” I said.
Her eyes lifted to mine.
For once, she did not look triumphant.
“I don’t know what I got,” she said.
The statement stayed with me longer than I wanted it to.
From the drawing room, Marcus’s voice rose briefly, then lowered. Richard’s answered, cold and clipped. Cade said nothing, or if he did, I could not hear him.
Vivian glanced toward the sound. “You should be careful.”
I almost smiled. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“I mean it.”
“So do they.
