"Verity, you'd better start talking. Now."
Gabriel's voice was ice-cold, sharp enough to cut.
But his eyes stayed fixed on Lilah, watching for the tiniest sign that she might doubt him.
Only then did Sandra shift her gaze to Verity.
Was Verity seriously the one who took her own clothes off?
Verity hadn't expected Sandra and Lilah to burst in like that. Sitting awkwardly on the floor, barely covered, she instinctively tried to shield herself, but it was no use.
Humiliation washed over her like a tidal wave.
Lilah was clearly shocked, but deep in her eyes, there was something else too—something messy and tangled. Her gaze dropped to the wine Verity had brought.
In a flash, she strode over, picked up the glass, brought it to her nose—and immediately her face paled.
