Lethia's eyes widened, and her neck stiffened with tension. "Wh–what are you talking about?"
Varrel laughed again, laced with mockery, like he was savouring the confusion on her face.
"Oh dear, I didn't expect you to be this naive. Lethia, the one who never trusted anyone, so easily swayed just because she couldn't control the heat coming from her own womb?" His mocking laughter made her stomach churn.
"Just tell me what you know. I'm not in the mood for your cheap jokes," she spat, her voice dripping with disgust.
Varrel let go of her, and Lethia instantly shifted, pressing herself against the car door.
"The papers you read at Terressa's house, Zeran Tuffin already knew about it. By now, he's probably interrogating that assassin. Or maybe he already killed him… to hide the real person who gave the order."
Lethia turned her glare to his infuriating face. "The real one? And who the hell is that?" she snapped, impatient.
