Lucas
I stepped out to the garden terrace to get some air. The lights from inside spilled through the glass doors, and that was when I heard Cynthia’s voice. Sharp and spitting anger. She stood near the railing with her phone pressed to her ear. She didn’t know I was there.
“I knew it,” she hissed. “The moment SM-47 got that part payment, I knew she’d start showing her true colors.”
I frowned. Part payment? Was that all about?
“She’s a slimy bastard,” Cynthia continued, her voice trembling with rage. “A gold-digger! An opportunist! She thinks she can play smart with me?”
I stiffened. I had never, ever, heard Cynthia talk like this. Not even to her worst enemies.
Who is this woman?
“She has the money now,” Cynthia went on. “Who knows what she’ll do next? People like her can disappear
