When I finished washing my face, the first thing I saw was that stupid fucking jar of face cream sitting on the table like it had a purpose in my life. I picked it up, glaring at it, trying to decide whether chucking it into the trash or smearing it across a mirror would be more satisfying.
I didn't trust Rebecca—or anything that came from her perfectly manicured claws.
I was just about to find a way to discreetly get rid of it when that woman from this morning strolled in like she owned the place. The one who had started a fight at the table like we were living in some trashy drama series. Her smug expression made my skin crawl.
"Oh, Conan," she purred. "I saw that Levi was just with Rebecca. Are you going to go look for them?"
What?
Who even was she? And why was she still breathing the same air as me?
"No," I said flatly.
