Page 193

“And I’ll see you at the party!”

I managed a tight, strained smile. Barely. “Yeah.”

We went our separate ways, and I made it to the elevator lobby before pulling my phone right back out.

A Night to Die For.

I shook my head, my jaw clenched tight. Bitch, the only thing dying on Halloween is this damn party.

I wanted to call Willow’s phone right that very second and scream through the speaker, demanding to know what kind of drugs she had been smoking when she decided to invite half the city into a mansion that didn’t belong to her. But no… I wasn’t handling that over a phone call. I wanted to look dead into that heifer’s eyes and watch her face when she tried to explain why she had completely lost her damn mind.

I slipped my phone back into my purse and smiled politely at the elderly woman standing beside me in the descending elevator.

She smiled sweetly back at me.

Poor thing had no idea I was standing next to her actively plotting a homicide.

By the time I drove back through the estate gates and parked in front of the house, I had calmed down a little… not enough to let Willow live, but enough that I could walk through the front door without immediately screaming her name at the top of my lungs.

Granny sat comfortably in the family room watching her favorite midday court shows. Kaidence was still safe at school, and Willow was upstairs in her bedroom working on her corporate marketing job.

Perfect.

I set my purse on the kitchen island, leaned against the counter, and pulled out my phone.

Me: When you go on break, come see me. We need to talk.

Her response popped up almost immediately.

Willow: About what?

I stared coldly at the screen.

Me: Just come downstairs.

The three little typing dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Willow: Did I do something?

I let out a loud, dry laugh into the empty kitchen. Then I typed:

Me: We’ll discuss it when you get down here.

She didn’t respond after that.

Good.

Let her sit upstairs in her room and sweat, thinking about every single poor life decision she had made in the last twenty-four hours.

I went into the family room to check on Granny, giving her a kiss on the cheek and letting her know that the Bellmont interview had gone phenomenally well. Then I poured myself a glass of wine, sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, and waited.

About an hour later, the sound of bedroom slippers shuffled down the hallway, and Willow came down the stairs with her laptop tucked beneath one arm. The exact second she stepped into the kitchen and noticed me sitting there waiting for her, her posture shifted and her steps became noticeably slower.

“Hey, sis,” she said, her voice unusually soft.

“Hey.”

She carefully set her laptop down on the far end of the marble counter. “What’s up?”