Elena looked at Marcus, then at the man she was supposed to marry. She took a slow sip of her water, the decision crystallizing in her mind. The glass house was about to shatter, and for the first time in years, she was ready to walk through the shards.
"Does it?" Marcus swirled his whiskey. "Or does it take effort to pretend you don't know the truth?"
From across the room, Julian looked up, catching their gaze. He smiled—a practiced, predatory expression—and began to make his way toward them. He trusted Elena implicitly because he thought he owned her past. He had no idea she was about to use it to dismantle his future. giselle palmer puretaboo
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She is the scream you didn’t know you needed to hear. Elena looked at Marcus, then at the man
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Elena stood by the fireplace, nursing a glass of sparkling water. To the guests, she was the fiancée of Julian Whitmore—the golden boy of the city’s tech scene. She was the picture of poise: silk dress, understated jewelry, a laugh that chimed perfectly at the right moments. But underneath the facade, her heart was a hummingbird trapped in a ribcage.