“The acting is good.”
Logan Wesley sneered coldly. His laughter was low, mocking, and colder than winter steel.
Hazel felt as if the last bit of warmth in her chest had been crushed.
“Do you really think all of this was planned by me?” she asked hoarsely, her nose burning, her throat tight. She tried hard to keep her tears from falling, forcing herself to look straight at him.
“Stop pretending,” Logan said impatiently. His eyes were filled with disgust. “This ends here between you and me.”
He didn’t wait for her response.
He turned his back on her, turned his back on his unconscious grandfather, and walked straight toward the car without another glance, as if Hazel didn’t exist at all.
At that moment, Hazel felt as if an invisible knife had stabbed straight into her heart.
Hard.
D
