“Well,” she drawled, tilting her head with that sickly sweetness that always made my skin crawl, “you really are impressive, Avery. After everything I’ve done to embarrass you in front of capos, investors, socialites—anyone who matters—you still cling to this place like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.”
Her smile sharpened.
“Oh. That’s right. Your grandmother passed last month, didn’t she?” She feigned thoughtfulness. “Now that your last piece of family is gone, I suppose it makes sense. You’re desperate. Hanging onto Zachary like he’s your final lifeline.”
Then she laughed—light, cruel, perfectly timed.
“Remember how you begged him to fly you out to see her one last time?” she asked softly. “Do you want to know why he didn’t?”
She lifted her phone, waving it like a blade.
“Because he promised to take me to the coast that day. Sunset. Champagne. That photo everyone saw? That’s when it was taken.”
The words didn’t hit all at once.
They fractured slowly—spreading through me like cracks in glass.
She’d known.
She’d known exactly what she was doing when she flaunted that picture. When she reminded me of the helicopter. Of the one day I’d knelt on cold marble, begging him to let me leave for just a few hours.
And he chose her.
The pressure built in my chest, jaw locking, fists curling at my sides until my nails bit skin.
Something inside me snapped.
“You think this is amusing?” I hissed, my voice low and sharp. “You think tearing apart what little I have left makes you powerful? Makes you worthy to stand beside him?”
Nina arched a brow, lips curving into something predatory. “I don’t need to be his equal,” she said calmly. “I already have everything.”
I stepped closer, teeth bared. “You have nothing,” I spat. “You’re a parasite. A leech feeding on scraps from his life—and mine.”
The room went very still.
Avery's POV
She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug, satisfaction curling her mouth into something ugly and pleased.
“Still more than you’ll ever touch,” she said lightly.
That was the moment everything shattered.
I slapped the phone out of her hand. It flew across the room and struck the marble floor with a sharp crack, skidding until the screen spider-webbed uselessly.
I didn’t think. I didn’t plan.
My body surged forward on pure fury.