TWENTY-ONE
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Less than twenty-four hours later, the stage was set. Devon had never been so terrified, she’d become accustomed to the flavor of adrenaline in her throat. After Zave had left her alone in her bedroom, she’d pondered what he said but wasn’t horrified by it. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. There could be no other outcome.
She didn’t know if Zara knew or if Kadie did or who of the men had broached the subject in the first place. It didn’t matter.
No more talk of plans or strategy joined them at the dinner table last night, but when the women said they were retiring to one of the dens for wine and conversation, the men didn’t object or join them.
That must have been when they came up with the details of how to approach this day because the next
