HARPER
Mission accomplished.
Watching Camilla spiral just from the sight of me was everything. Honestly, I hadn't expected the dress alone to set her off, but it had. The satisfaction was instant, heady.
And this wasn't even the beginning. The ceremony hadn't started yet, which meant there was still plenty of time to turn the knife.
Camilla had stripped me of maid of honor duties and handed them to some random girl from her entourage. I didn't care. In fact, it worked in my favor. Standing that close to Owen at the altar might've stirred feelings I'd buried deep—feelings I had no intention of entertaining. I might even try to kill her.
Because it should've been me. In that gown. Walking that aisle. Living the dream, she stole right out from under me. And yet, she dared to lose her mind over a dress. One anyone could've worn.
I leaned back in my chair, gaze fixed on the two people I loathed most in this world.
"If looks could kill," Dominic murmured, his breath brushing my ear.
