Alexander’s POV
I sit by the wine bar, my fingers lightly tracing the rim of my glass as I replay the day in my mind—every word, every look, every moment that seems to unravel all at once.
The Montgomerys are revealing their missing daughter to the world tomorrow. They keep making it seem like they’ve struck gold with her.
What’s the point of a party? Well, considering we got the check, I won’t mind if they keep throwing parties every weekend. I scoff.
Just as I’m about to take another sip, I catch sight of Cynthia passing by, dressed in a figure-hugging mini dress made of sleek, shimmering fabric that catches the light.
I glare at her as she walks past, pretending not to notice me. For a second, I wonder where she might be heading this late at night, dressed like that.
Don’t get me
