The women around Eve stiffened. Someone drew in a sharp breath. A man at a nearby table turned his head slightly, pretending not to listen while clearly catching every syllable.
Eve’s stomach tightened.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Luan smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes.
“Please,” she scoffed. “Everyone knows Ryan didn’t marry by choice. Steven Reynolds forced him to. Blackmail is such a powerful motivator, wouldn’t you agree?”
The women glanced between them, their curiosity morphing, some into concern, some into fascination, some into that particular brand of social hunger reserved for fresh gossip.
“And really,” Luan went on, voice rising just enough to carry, “a driver doesn’t just rise to power like that without dirt. You must admi
