"Tell me, what exactly happened the night of Pine Ridge Lodge?"
Roman was the first to break the silence, pointing lazily between the three of them. "Me? Him? Or my sweet mate?" His hand slid over Violet's shoulder with a little smile. "You'll have to be more specific, Commander of Intelligence." His tone was light, almost playful, but the taunt was clear at the end.
"Roman Draven." Vincent's jaw tightened as he spoke the name. "I've heard enough about your antics. Let's start with you."
"Ooh," Roman leaned back, grinning. "Hit me, baby." The way he stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles, you'd think he was gearing up for a party, not an interrogation.
Vincent set his pen down on the paper, the nib hovering just over the first line. "From the beginning, Roman, Draven," he ordered. "Why Pine Ridge Lodge? What happened that night? Who was there, and what exactly transpired?"
