Sophie’s POV
I froze in my seat, heart pounding like a jackhammer as Kane stared me down. The shattered glass still sparkled across the floor, wine dripping down the wall like blood.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? You were so talkative a minute ago," Kane sneered, his wheelchair suddenly seeming less like a sign of weakness and more like a throne. "Sophie Hart, you're quite something."
The tension in the room was suffocating. I swallowed hard, my eyes darting to the other wine glass on the table. My mind raced frantically.
I grabbed the bottle with trembling fingers and poured him a fresh glass, offering it with exaggerated deference.
Kane gave me a calculating look before accepting the glass. He always did appreciate quick thinking and survival instincts.
"Mr. Bla
