I tilted my head as I danced toward Raymond. “Like my outfit?” I asked, grabbing handfuls of the fabric and twisting this way and that. “It’s my funeral dress,” I stated demurely. “Thought it would be fitting.”
I pinned him with a beatific smile. “I figured I would wear it tonight to forebode your little family reunion. I’m sentimental like that.”
His face fell briefly, but it quickly hardened with anger.
“How dare you, little b.itch,” he spat, closing the space between us. I held my ground, unwavering, only tilting my head so I could assess his face hovering too close to me. “Who are you to speak of an heir's d.eath? My son's d.eath?” he spat.
I retrieved my d.agger without breaking his gaze and leaned up, pressing the tip of it against his throat. I recoiled at the proximity, but I r
