And definitely, to James, this wasn't a loss—it was just one door closing and another one swinging wide open. A better door. A cleaner one. One without Cora's nonsense and the Victors' hypocrisy.
He was even starting to laugh at himself inwardly afraid of Cora? Really? That was impossible. She had been the one riding his coattails for years. Feeding off his shine like a moth glued to light. The same woman who used to beg him not to leave, who cried her eyes out whenever he threatened to walk away. The same woman who once told him she didn't know who she would be without him.
So how could he, James Lewis, ever be afraid of someone like that?
Again he scoffed under his breath and turned back to stare at her, a dangerous smirk slowly painting his lips.
His eyes locked with hers from across the room those once soft brown eyes he used to admire now dark and sharp. But James wasn't moved. He wasn't shaken.
Instead, with a calm tone laced with venom, he spoke slowly.
