Olivia's lip curled. Her voice came out, half scoff, half disgust.
"God, you look horrible."
I turned my gaze back to Neven with a cruel smile curving my lips.
"All thanks to your uncle," I said softly.
For a heartbeat, Neven didn't move. His breathing faltered as the truth, undeniable and vile crept through his senses. I saw the shift in his eyes, that split second where instinct confirmed what his pride refused to believe.
His jaw locked. His eyes blazed.
And I said nothing. My silence hit harder than any insult ever could. I just stood there calm and unbothered as the weight of his own humiliation crushed him.
Then his voice erupted, splintering the quiet.
"You think this is funny, Jane? You think this is some kind of sick game?!" He roared, raw and trembling, his chest heaving.
