I hadn’t accused her of anything, so why was she so worked up?
Verna’s face flushed, then paled, as if I had humiliated her again. She clenched her fists so tightly it looked like her nails would break. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lancaster.”
She choked out the words, then turned and ran.
I looked at Steven, my patience worn thin. “Are you going to give me the money or not?”
If he didn’t, I would just have to borrow from the cab driver and pay him back once my phone was charged.
Steven’s handsome face grew darker than the stormy sky, his deep-set eyes glinting like shards of ice. The chilling aura he exuded was enough to make one shudder. I thought he was about to defend Verna again, but instead, he spoke in a low, cold voice.
“Zephyra, does it really not matter to you what I do? I get into a drinking match, you don’t care. I collapse in a hospital, you don’t care. Some woman spends the night in my house, and you still don’t care. So if I were to bring her home to live with me, you wouldn’t care about that either, would you?”
I found his question utterly bizarre, and a cold smile touched my lips. “Steven, isn’t that the whole point? I’m making way for her.”
I was supposed to be clearing the path for Verna. If he wanted to bring her home, why should I care?
It seemed to be the last straw for him. A bitter, almost pained laugh escaped his lips. His face was still pale, and the sound held a hint of desperation and barely suppressed rage. He pulled two hundred dollars from his wallet.
The bastard had lied to me. He had cash on him the whole time.
As I reached for the money, he let it go. The bills fluttered to the ground in front of me as his voice, devoid of all warmth, rained down from above, filled with enough venom to kill.
“Zephyra, after we sign the papers tomorrow, you will get as far away from me as you possibly can. And you will never let me see you again.”
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