Edward's Point Of View
I shot up so fast my heavy leather chair groaned in protest, rolling backward as its casters carved deep grooves into the thick Persian rug. The sudden movement wrenched me away from Cynthia, and my hands flew to grip the smooth mahogany edge of my desk. The wood bit into my palms as my heart hammered against my ribs with a dangerous, erratic rhythm.
A cold dread had already begun settling in my chest… the kind that only came when Lydia was involved. After years of raising her, I'd developed an almost instinctive sense for when she'd crossed a line.
The words came out low and harsh, vibrating the crystal glasses on the nearby tray. "What is going on, Lydia? What do you mean everything is ruined? What did you do?"
