MARION

Paula stood a few feet away, every inch of her dripping with the kind of poison that used to amuse me. Not tonight. Not with Demetria sitting beside me, my hand firm on her waist, my thumb drawing idle circles against her soft skin.

Paula’s eyes flicked to that hand, and I caught the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth. Jealousy. She always wore it like perfume.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Demetria,” Paula said, voice sugar-sweet with that underlying bite she was known ...