CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

GINEVRA

"Fuck! fuck. . .fuck!" I screamed, my fist continuously ramming into the leather seat of the car conveying me to the airstrip.

Dragging in a deep, shuddering breath like a child calming herself after a long cry, my fingers began fumbling with my buttons until my shirt was completely opened, giving me an opportunity to breathe without any barriers.

The car was eerily quiet, save for my harsh pants, and the hysteric laughter that had bubbled out of me more times than I could count.

Seated with me in the backseat of the car was Cassandra—my underboss had to stay back for the banquet as my representative. So, here I was, seated with a traitor, a traitor whom I was yet to rid of. Because my underboss thought it unfit for me to exert my revenge.

Not yet at least.

Cassandra’s eyes were on me, unmoving, unblinking, perhaps expectant of my fury, and yet, I said nothing. And she, too, didn’t say a word.

When my eyes connected the wandering ones of the man who had been driving us