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All of us?
While I keep eating, Kyra stares down at her food and doesn’t move. Another minute passes, and she still doesn’t move.
“Kyra.” My voice softer this time.
Her eyes dart to mine, and for a moment, I see inside her soul. To the scared little girl who has no idea what is about to happen to her.
Just as I never did.
But she’s not a child. She’s the woman my father wants to claim as his, and I’m completely and utterly never going to let that fucking happen.
“Why are you marrying Pierce?” I demand, and she blinks, only just keeping her emotions in check.
Then I see the moment a crack appears.
“Because I was told to.”
I stare at her, unsure how to respond to that.
I’m not at all okay with someone telling this woman what to do—ironically—but before I can say a word, Kyra stands.
She’s calm—too calm—and places her napkin on the table.
“I’m going back to my cell.”
Fuck.
I watch as she walks through the penthouse. Her eyes flicker to the screen on the wall where four images of her room show the live feed.
Shit, I forgot to turn them off.
Kyra turns back and looks me right in the eye. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t. She just keeps walking.
I drop my utensils and curse.
Then watch the screen as she enters the room, closes the door and walks into the bathroom. There are no cameras in there. Perhaps she noticed.
But I don’t need a camera to know she’s having a meltdown.
What did I expect?
And why do I care?
Tomorrow, I will make my next move.
It’s time to destroy my father.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KYRA
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The ceiling is completely white, broken up only by an ornate light fixture in the middle. Except for one spot. I’ve stared at it for so long I’m becoming irrationally fixated on it.
Is it a bug? Is it fly dirt? An imperfection?
I need to know.