CHAPTER 53.
DAISY'S POINT OF VIEW.
I slammed the empty glass down on the counter, the sharp clink echoing through the kitchen like a gunshot.
The burn of the whiskey lingered in my throat, but it did nothing to scorch away the images flooding my mind—Kiesha's fake smiles during those prison visits, her hands quietly dismantling my life, piece by piece.
Assets sold off like they belonged to her. My sister, or so I’d thought.
Tears pricked at my eyes, hot and insistent, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.
"Where were you last night, Daisy?" Alpha De-shawn’s voice cut through the haze again, low but firm.
I set the glass down with deliberate care and turned to face him.
His eyes locked onto mine, unyielding.
"Something came up. I had to stay over at a friend’s place
