The silence after Lorraine’s whisper hung in the study like smoke.
“Betsy,” she said again, firmer this time, as if the name itself explained the impossible.
Roman’s eyes flashed, dark and stormy. He stared at the tiny camera in his hand, the metal still warm from where he had pulled it out of the bookshelf. Then, slowly, his jaw tightened until the muscle there jumped.
“Her?” His voice cracked like a whip, low and dangerous. “Did she really want in my bed so badly that she would go this far to spite us?”
He hurled the device against the wall. It shattered, tiny shards of black plastic scattering across the hardwood.
Lorraine jumped at the sound but held his gaze. “It makes sense. Who else could it be? She’s been cruel from the beginning, Roman. She hated me. She hated you paying atte
