77

77

Bethany's POV

The universe has a cruel sense of humor. I was sitting in Mason's grand, over-decorated living room, pretending not to notice the smug look on his face while he swirled a glass of scotch like some villain in a bad movie.

"Well," he said, breaking the silence with a tone so self-satisfied it made my teeth grind. "I'd say tonight went... interestingly, wouldn't you?"

I didn't answer. My fists were clenched so tightly in my lap that my nails were leaving little crescent moons in my palms.

"Come now, Bethany," Mason drawled, leaning back in his chair like a king surveying his kingdom. "No need to be so glum. Things worked out as they were meant to."

I couldn't take it anymore. "You mean things worked out exactly how you planned them."

Mason's smile widened, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face with a well-aimed slap. "Careful, darling. That's quite an accusation."