Countdown to Betrayal

PRESTON

The moment I stepped out of Vivienne's house, I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, still feeling the ghost of her kiss on my skin.

I loathed her. I hated the way she looked at me like I was dirt beneath her expensive heels, the way she spoke to me like I was nothing but a tool she could pick up and discard whenever it suited her. She was arrogant, full of herself, convinced that