Anna, seizing the opening, took a step forward. "Baby, listen to your father," she said softly. "You don't want to do this."
Sylvia smiled, a sad, crooked curve of her lips. She'd finally realized what everyone in the Kane family learned too late—Tom Kane didn't give a damn about anyone's heartbreak unless it could be weaponized. Still, even monsters sometimes spoke the truth, and he was right about one thing: Winn would need her.
Her fingers trembled as she lowered the gun, its metallic weight leaving an imprint against her skin as she placed it carefully on the desk.
She straightened, brushing away a tear with the back of her hand. "You both are dead to me."
Anna gasped. "Sylvia, darling—"
But Sylvia was already walking away.
Tom exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. His daughter's words stung, but not enough to pierce through the steel of his ego.
