CASSIAN
I stood there, watching her like I was paid to stare at her.
Like this was a fucking joke.
"Game over, Uncle lying devil."
Uncle lying devil?
Every word felt like a blow to my gut.
And it didn't hurt because it was true.
It hurt because she felt that was who I was.
That was her opinion of me, and it hit harder than a punch.
That was the power she had—she could slice and kill with the same lips she could use and sound so fucking sweet.
"Nothing's over, Bambolina," I said, still calm. "We just got started, and that's not ending anytime soon."
She scoffed but didn't turn to face me.
I pressed the laptop screen down, making her fingers pause as they moved with mind-numbing speed.
She didn't look up.
Her jaw was set—stubborn, like the redhead she was.
"This isn't a game," I repeated calmly.
"Great."
"Tell me more then, like how taxes are to be paid for breathing and betrayal's just a new synonym for trust," she quipped. "I love to learn, you know."
