Caroline paused, the weight of Celine's words anchoring her in place. Her eyes narrowed slightly, masking the storm behind them, but her fingers betrayed her, curling tightly into trembling fists at her sides. She hadn't expected this. Not this confrontation. Not this invasion into the one thing she had kept hidden from even herself—how deeply tangled her emotions for Lucien had become.
How did they know?
Her lips parted slightly, but she forced them closed again, clamping down on the thousand retorts forming in her throat. She would not give them the satisfaction. Lifting her chin, she steadied her voice, sharp and proud, but not loud.
"Yes. So what if Lucien and I are in a contracted marriage? What does that have to do with you?"
The blonde—gorgeous, icy, with a wicked smile that screamed trouble—tilted her head back and laughed. Loudly. Unapologetically. The sound was cruel, like glass shattering in the dead of night.
