MAEVE'S POV
Lydia's room felt too damn small. Too fucking tight for him to be standing this close.
The air was thick with the stench of herbs, dried tonic, and whatever was rotting beneath the surface of this family.
The walls pressed in, as though they wanted to trap me with him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ivan scoffed, eyes hardened to a glare. "What does Serena have to do with the fact that you kept Asha away from me for five years?"
My jaw clenched before the words hissed out.
"Everything." I swallowed the rest. "But like I said—you should ask her yourself. I'm sure she has plenty to say."
His head shook, his gaze tightening, eyes narrowing like I was some child making excuses again. That same look he always gave me when he wanted to play righteous.
"You never change, do you?" he said, like he pitied me. "Always twisting the story. Always playing the victim."
The bitter laugh scraped out of my throat before I could stop it.
