Milena folded her arms, cutting through the heavy silence with a flick of her fingers—almost theatrical, like she was brushing away a curtain.
"Well, since the mood's already been thoroughly ruined," she said, her tone dry as ever, "allow me to lay out the context. Point by point, in the spirit of transparency."
I didn't say a word. And Selene still wouldn't look at me.
Not after everything she did.
Azalea's eyes darted between us like she was watching a tennis match on triple speed, clearly unsure which side was winning.
Milena started pacing slowly across the room, her voice rising—not dramatically, but with that methodical, dissecting calm that made my skin crawl.
"First: Why Selene made a contract with me. It's simple—she owed me."
I narrowed my eyes, but Milena only raised a brow, as if daring me to interrupt.
