Enzo's Pov
I hold her hand the second I get close enough to touch her, my fingers closing around hers. I feel her trembling body instinctively lean into mine, her shoulder pressing against my arm as she lets out a quiet, shaky sigh of relief.
Her mother, Beatrice, gets up from her chair, a placating, calculated smile playing on her lips. The look of automatic respect I usually afforded the matriarch of the Hawthorne family was gone, evaporated the moment I heard the venom in this room. I cannot believe a mother could stand by and be so ruthlessly passive while her daughters tear each other apart.
"I am really sorry you had to witness this, Enzo," Beatrice says, her voice a smooth, practiced lie. "She did not mean it that way. She is just... hurt. Deeply hurt after everything that has happened."
"What, exactly, happened?" I ask, raising a brow. I keep my fingers tightly intertwined with Eden's, using the connection to ground both of us in the storm of lies swirling around us.
