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Please, be someone who cares for me. Please.
Vera:
I see you got yourself shiny new legal representation.
Vera:
Just received the letter.
Vera:
And who foots the bill for this entire nonsense? Do tell.
Vera:
That’s fine, Farrow.
Vera:
I’m still going to crush you.
Vera:
Gloves off now.
Vera:
Just how I like it.
I stared at the screen.
Three little dots danced along the bottom.
My breath hitched.
Another text box appeared.
Vera:
Happy Birthday, Farrow.
Vera:
Let’s hope it’s your last.
Any hope that Zach knew it was my birthday flew out the window when I returned to his mansion.
His home resembled a snow globe, so pretty from afar, nestled in a thin blanket of ice. The inside buzzed—warm and lit, the flurry of mouthwatering scents engulfing me like rich fabric.
By now, my shitty mood had sunk into my bones so deep, even a bulldozer couldn’t excavate it.
It didn’t help that, on my way to the kitchen, Zach’s powerful voice sliced through the air from the chamber upstairs, snapping the backs of my ears.
I hadn’t even made it to the landing, and he’d already issued a command.
“Farrow. My office.Now.”
He’d waited until I was one step away from the kitchen before calling me upstairs?
