Eve
Bile rose in my throat. I took a step closer, my fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. A flash of red tinged my vision.
This bloody bitch...
"Don't call him that," I drawled, each word low and razored.
Her green eyes flickered—and for a heartbeat, there was fear. Real, flickering fear behind that infuriating calm.
Then she smiled. Slow. Crooked. Like decay curling at the edges of something once beautiful.
"You scared me," she murmured, glancing down at herself with mock awe.
"How low the mighty have fallen," she whispered, mostly to herself. "I've been chipped down to this… this pathetic shell of a woman who should have had it all."
Her eyes lifted to mine again.
"I like the new haircut, by the way," she said, dry amusement in her tone. "Really brings out your cheekbones."
She tilted her head, examining me like she was cataloging a scar.
"Who knew they were that sharp? Guess it was just one of those things you hid."
