Neven said it with such arrogant pride that, for a moment, I just stared at him silently, still, until a slow, dangerous smile curved across my lips.
"Are you sure about that?" I asked softly, tilting my head just enough for him to see the glint in my eyes. "Because if he does show up," I stepped closer, closing the space between us, my voice dropping low and sharp like silk over a blade, "you'll be calling me Aunt Jane."
Neven's jaw flexed, his laugh breaking out harsh and humorless. "I doubt that," he scoffed, folding his arms as if that could shield him from the sting of my words.
Olivia, still basking in her smug self-importance, stepped forward and extended the embossed invitation toward me. "Then prove it," she purred, her eyes gleaming. "Bring him."
I took the invitation from he
