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“Did you bring me into your house because you wanted to control the story?”

“Initially, I wanted to control the situation.”

I laugh. It sounds terrible.

“Wow. That's some impressive billionaire wordplay.”

“I'm not playing with words.”

“Really? Because situation sounds so much nicer than me.”

“I never controlled you.”

“You tried.”

“I gave you access.”

“So you could watch me.”

“Initially, yes.”

I press my hand over my mouth.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I knew Myrna was trying to hurt me.

I knew jealousy was dripping from every vicious word she said.

But that doesn't mean she was lying.

Not about this.

“You should've told me.”

“I know. I planned to.”

“When?”

“I was going to.”

“When?”

“Layla—”

“No. When were you going to tell me?”

“I've been trying to figure out how.”

“You've had plenty of opportunities.”

“I know.”

“You've had me living in your house.”

“I know.”