Jason Zane maintained a facade of polite concern, the very picture of a distressed son-in-law, but deep within the fortified citadel of his own ego, a cold, jagged sneer was spreading like a cancer. He was drinking in the moment, savoring the bitter taste of the Lacy family's desperation like a vintage wine. The sheer, intoxicating sense of accomplishment washed over him, warming his blood against the chill of the evening wind.
However, the play was only in its second act. The trap had been set, the prey had stepped into the snare, but the noose had not yet been tightened to the point of suffocation. The real show―the coup de gr?ce that would strip Sarah Lacy of everything―was about to begin.
Jason carefully modulated his facial muscles, practicing the art of the sympathetic hero. He fur
