He looked between us, lingering on our closeness and Vani’s hand on my arm. Something ugly flashed across his face.
“Well,” he said, “this is unexpected.”
I didn’t respond.
I just looked at him.
Beside me, Vani had gone very still again, and I could already feel my temper beginning to stir. I didn’t know the full story of what had happened between them, but I didn’t need to know everything to recognize a terrible person.
He glanced at Vani once more and then, with a half-laugh that made me want to break something, said, “Didn’t think you were his type.”
My eyes narrowed. Vani’s grip on me tightened in warning before I could speak.
“I mean, no offense,” he added, with the sort of fake politeness only a coward used before saying something offensive anyway. “She doesn't exactly fit in here.”
A violent urge surged within me—I was moments from breaking his nose.
I really was.
My hand flexed, already picturing my fist connecting with his smug face. But before I acted, Vani tightened her grip, stopping me.
With graceful defiance, Vani lifted her hand, her ring winking in the light like a flash of defiance.
Her ex’s gaze dropped to it at once.
“I'm his lawfully wedded wife,” she said. "Who else would he bring?"
He scoffed. "So you're a gold digger now?"
A cold, savage smile twisted on my lips as I met his glare. "Tread carefully," I warned, my voice razor-sharp. "Funny how bitter you sound for a man too broke to keep her. Don’t worry, that’s not a problem I’ll ever have."
His face changed instantly. The smug amusement disappeared, replaced by offense so immediate it was almost satisfying.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
“It means exactly what it sounds like,” I said.
The woman on his arm shifted uncomfortably.
Vani stayed quiet, as if curious how far I’d go. Very far, as it turned out. I looked at him as though I’d just remembered. “What company do you work for again?”
His brows drew together. “I didn't.”
I tilted my head. “The company. Say it.”
He hesitated, clearly unsure whether answering me would be a mistake. His pride won out.
“Langford Financial.”
I gave a slow nod, reached into my pocket, and pulled out my phone.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
I ignored him and dialed Daniel.
It only rang once before he answered. “Sir?”
“Daniel,” I said, my voice calm enough that no one hearing it would have guessed how angry I was, “get started on acquiring Langford Financial.”
