Author's POV
"What do you want me to say?" Wendy finally turned to look at him, her eyes hard as diamonds. "That I regret seducing Marcus? That I regret the wealth, the status, the access to Storm Industries' secrets? Or perhaps you want me to regret the car accident that took my legs?"
She'd been a ballet dancer once. Prima ballerina material, before that terrible night fifteen years ago.
The night Quinn had tampered with their father's car brakes, intending to kill the gambling addict who'd made their childhoods hell.
The night Wendy had borrowed that car because hers was in the shop.
The night that destroyed her dreams and turned her into this brittle, vengeful creature in a wheelchair.
"How many times did you try to kill yourself after?" Quinn asked quietly, kneelin
