Chapter 116 Defending Mr. Thorne
The restroom was quiet except for the soft noise of the ventilation system.
Veyra’s hands were still pressed against the marble sink. Her face was still wet from the cold water. Droplets clung to her eyelashes. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and uncertain.
She was still weighing the decision. Vice leader of the Ravenwood Syndicate. Power. Protection. Danger.
She was still thinking when the door swung open and Xiomara stepped inside.
Her heels clicked against the tile. Her dress was black and fitted. Her hair was perfect. Her smile was sharp.
"Well, well," Xiomara said. "If it isn’t my favorite half-sister."
Veyra’s jaw tightened.
"Xiomara."
"I heard you were here." Xiomara walked to the mirror. She pulled out a lipstick. She applied it slowly and carefully. "Dining with Wesley Wynn. Very impressive."
Veyra said nothing.
"Of course," Xiomara continued, "you didn’t get there on your own. You had help."
Veyra turned to leave.
Xiomara’s voice followed her. "Your husband. The bodyguard. The one who works for Wesley Wynn."
Veyra stopped.
Xiomara smiled. "What’s his name again? Dorian? He’s very tall. Very quiet. Follows Wesley around like a loyal dog."
Veyra’s hands curled into fists.
"Tell me," Xiomara said, "does he fetch things for you too? Or does he just stand there looking menacing?"
Veyra took a breath.
She walked toward the door.
Xiomara’s voice was louder now. Sharper.
"I’m talking to you."
Veyra kept walking.
"Your husband is a glorified watchdog," Xiomara said. "He’s not even important enough to have his own name. He’s just Wesley’s shadow."
Veyra’s hand was on the door handle.
"How did you land someone like that?" Xiomara asked. "Did you just spread your legs and hope for the best?"
Veyra’s hand tightened on the handle.
"Because that’s the only way someone like you could ever—"
Veyra turned and she moved so fast.
Her hand connected with Xiomara’s cheek.
The slap cracked through the restroom which was so loud, sharp and final.
Xiomara’s head snapped to the side. Her lipstick smeared across her chin and her hand flew to her face.
Xiomara’s eyes widened. She raised her hand. She was about to strike back but Veyra grabbed her wrist. Her grip was iron. Her fingers pressed into Xiomara’s skin.
Xiomara’s breath caught.
Veyra slapped her again. On the other cheek. Harder this time.
Xiomara stumbled back. Veyra followed. She pressed her forearm against Xiomara’s throat. She pushed her against the tiled wall.
Xiomara’s eyes were wide, her mouth opened, she tried to speak but nothing came out.
Veyra’s voice was quiet. Deadly.
"Listen to me carefully."
Xiomara’s hands clawed at Veyra’s arm. She could not break free.
"You can insult me all you want. Call me names. Mock my background. I don’t care." Veyra’s voice was ice. "But you will never, ever insult Mr. Thorne."
Xiomara’s eyes darted. She was struggling to breathe.
"Do you understand?"
Xiomara nodded. A small, jerky movement.
"Because if I hear you say one more word about him, if I even hear you whisper his name, I will slap you until you can’t speak again."
Xiomara’s face was red. Her eyes were wet.
"Understand?"
Xiomara nodded again.
Veyra released her.
Xiomara slumped against the wall. Her hand went to her throat. She was gasping for air.
Veyra stepped back.
She smoothed her dress. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She walked toward the door.
Xiomara’s voice was hoarse. "You’ll regret this."
Veyra did not look back.
She opened the door.
Caspian was standing in the hallway.
His eyes were hard. His jaw was tight. His hands were at his sides.
He had seen everything.
"Veyra," he said.
She said nothing.
He stepped past her. Into the restroom.
Xiomara was still against the wall. Her cheeks were red. Her lipstick was smeared. Her eyes were wet.
She saw Caspian. Her face crumpled. She threw herself into his arms.
"Carl," she sobbed. "She hit me, she grabbed my throat and I couldn’t breathe."
Caspian wrapped his arms around her. His eyes were still on Veyra.