"Lucian, you said I lied to you. "That I hid my past from you," Eloise’s voice wavered, rough from unshed tears. "I’ll say it one last time; I never meant to hurt Aura. I never asked anyone to ra*e her. Her death was self-inflicted, it wasn’t my fault."
Her throat burned, her chest tightened, but she held his gaze, she had to.
Lucian stood like a statue, the dim lighting of the café casting jagged shadows over his sharp features. His expression was unreadable, but the storm in his eyes told her everything: rage, disbelief, betrayal.
Eloise swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Believe it or not, that’s the truth. And now…" her voice steadied, cold and final, "I don’t owe you anything."
She didn’t wait for a reaction. She shoved him, her hands trembling against his solid chest.
Lucia
