"Yes," the Verna agent replied politely, almost robotically.
"Okay, good," Queen murmured, then fell into a tense silence as her eyes scanned the fine print.
She barely saw the words. Her mind was too full—noisy with replayed arguments. She hadn't seen Drake since that night. Since the argument. Since the confessions and accusations had filled the air, choking out any reason or logic. After that, she hadn't gone home. She'd checked into a hotel under an alias and ignored every call Drake made.
She clenched her jaw, flipping a page a little too hard.
He kissed Chay. Her so-called best friend. The girl who'd grown up like a sister beside her, who'd shared dresses, secrets, and late-night ice cream raids. Chay, who had dared to press her lips against Queen's husband. The betrayal burned.
First Liam—the picture-perfect fiancé who had cheated the night before their wedding. And now Drake, her knight in shining armor—except his armor came with a mouth he couldn't keep to himself.
