Her performance was flawless. A perfect picture of a grieving daughter, wronged and seeking solace. I had to suppress the urge to snarl. She was using her mother's death as a tool, a weapon to get what she wanted. It was despicable.
And to think of it, how did her mother die?
"Your mother was banished for conspiring with you and kept me under your spell for years," I said, my voice sharp. "She was a threat. Her death doesn't erase the crimes she committed."
"Nor does it erase yours," Yasmine shot back, her eyes flashing with anger. "You and your mate have taken everything from me. My home, my family, my future. You sit here, high and mighty, playing the victim, but you are the ones who have destroyed my life. I deserve to be able to mourn my mother in peace."
"Peace is something you kn
