“No,” I said softly. “I do not ask permission in my own house.”
Before Genevieve could react, I reached down, grabbed the front of the grey shirt with both hands, and yanked hard.
The cotton fabric tore down the seam with a sharp snap. Buttons popped off, flying across the table and bouncing off the silver serving trays.
“Hey!” Genevieve shrieked, scrambling backward in her chair as the fabric ripped open, exposing her lace bra and bare torso. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Maeve!” Maddox barked. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood up, his tall frame looming over the table.
I did not even look at him. I kept my eyes locked on Genevieve as I tore the rest of the ruined shirt off her shoulders and tossed the shredded grey rags onto the floor behind her chair.
“Rela
