Vivian was choking.
Conor eased his grip, tossing the mask back at her. "Put your mask back on. Step out of line, and I'll chop off your limbs and feed them to the fish."
Vivian paled, barely standing against the wall.
"After you put it on, get out." Conor's voice was frosty. "Remember your place. You're just a stand-in."
"Yes." Vivian's hands shook. She'd never experienced Conor's fury like this.
"Don't breathe a word of tonight to Stacey. Do it, and I'll tear out your tongue," Conor warned icily.
Hastily, Vivian reattached the mask to her face.
"Where has Stacey gone?" Conor asked, his tone freezing.
"She went to the East Sea," Vivian answered.
"And what's she doing there?" Conor's brow furrowed.
"I don't know. I'm not in the know about everything," Vivian defended.
Conor eyed
