Sharp knocking erupted.
Not polite knocking. Urgent, frantic pounding.
"Alpha!" Evan's voice came from outside. "Miss Victoria is here, she—"
Before he could finish, the door burst open.
Victoria rushed in, hair disheveled, eyes swollen and red, tear tracks streaking her face.
"Kayden..." Her voice trembled. "We need to talk."
"Layla, I'll call you back," I said quickly and ended the call, sliding the phone into my pocket.
"Victoria, calm down," I said evenly. "We can sit and discuss this properly."
"Discuss this properly?" She laughed—a shrill, broken sound like a wounded bird. "Now you want to discuss things with me properly?"
"Kayden Blackwood, do you have any idea what I sacrificed for you?"
Victoria was laughing and crying simultaneously as she advanced toward me.
"Kayden, how could you marry someone else... I gave everything to the promise you made! Learning etiquette, learning estate management, and learning how to be the perfect Luna. I turned down every suitor because you were the only one in my heart."
"But you..." Her voice fractured. "You threw it all away for that woman."
"So the exposure—that was you?" I asked, carefully watching every micro-expression.
"Yes!" She practically screamed it. "All of it! It was all me! I hate her! I hate Layla Gray! I wanted to destroy her!"
She confessed too quickly.
The thought flashed through my mind. Too immediate. Like lines from a prepared script.
"And Lucas?" I continued probing, concealing my suspicion. "You hired him, too?"
"Yes!" Victoria said. "I spent every penny I had saved to get him to photograph her!"
"I wanted to ruin her reputation, to make her unworthy of you!"
Again, instant admission without hesitation. She was following some kind of script.
"What about the vampires?" I asked suddenly. "Last night's attack at the hospital—you arranged that too?"
Victoria's expression froze for just an instant, but I caught it.
"Yes!" she said, her gaze flickering.
She was lying.
The vampire attack—that wasn't her doing. Or more precisely... she hadn't contacted them directly.
"Victoria," I softened my tone, trying a different approach. "If you tell me who you're working with, I can protect you—"
"No one!" Victoria suddenly shrieked. "It was all me! I just hate her!"
She pulled a dagger from somewhere and lunged at me, the blade aimed straight for my heart.
I sidestepped, caught her wrist, and twisted hard—the crack of breaking bone. The dagger clattered to the floor. Victoria crumpled, clutching her mangled wrist, a keening wail escaping her lips.
