Her frown deepened as she pressed the dress closer to me. "I said, are we clear?"
Different scenarios passed through my mind—the headlines, whispers, pity stares—my mother's suffering turned into gossip.
I didn't want anyone to capitalize on her suffering. Mine was more than enough.
Mom didn't deserve to be judged and pitied by people who knew nothing about her or the life she'd lived.
It was one of my greatest fears when I signed the contract with Damien—the exposure, the scrutiny.
But I knew what I was getting in when I accepted to be Damien's wife. And I had come way too far to let some spoiled stupid brat get in my way.
I had too much to lose. Damien had too much to lose.
I grabbed the dress. "Crystal."
"Good."
I smiled and tossed the dress aside. Her brows furrowed as she stared at the dress sprawled on the floor.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I thought of a better headline," I said and sat down, crossing my legs.
"What?"
