Then at me.
Her expression didn’t change.
“Of course,” she said smoothly.
I opened my mouth to object, but Layla was already walking back toward the kitchen, her hips swaying, and her head held high.
I exhaled slowly.
Fuuuuck.
This was about to be a disaster.
Alexis was staring at the silverware in front of her, her brow furrowed slightly.
Then she looked up at me.
“Wow,” she said, her voice light but pointed. “I’m shocked you let the help eat with you.”
She smiled.
“That’s really sweet.”
The words hung in the air.
Sweet.
Like I was some benevolent employer allowing the staff to sit at the table from the kindness of my heart.
Before I could respond, Layla’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
“Help?”
She was standing in the doorway again, holding a bottle of wine, her eyes locked on Alexis.
“Bitch, find something safe to do,” Layla said, her voice calm but deadly.
Alexis’s mouth fell open.
Her eyes went wide.
She turned to me, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.
“Amai,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
From across the room, Syx burst out laughing.
“Worldstarrr!” he shouted, throwing his hands up like he was recording a fight on his phone.
I turned my head slowly and looked at him.
“Shut the fuck up,” I said.
Syx held up his hands in mock surrender, still grinning.
“My bad, my bad,” he said. “I’m just saying—this isentertainment.”
I turned back to Alexis.
