I stared at her stubbornly. "Heather, you're not the only greedy one on this vampire island. Your terms are unfair to me—I couldn't care less about being a queen."
In the blink of an eye, she appeared on the armrest of my sofa, her slender, elongated nails sharp as blades, grazing my face. Her cold brown eyes gleamed like a viper's. "You should fear me."
"Hmph... Yeah, right. I, Margie, was raised on fear—terrified to death, am I?"
At this point, I was already a dead woman walking. What was there left to fear?
In the past, I might have trembled in terror, but now, all I wanted was to break her nails, chop off her head, and shred her heart to pieces.
"Margie, Lionel stopped loving you long ago. There's no chance for the two of you to ever love each other again. His feelings for you now are just because he's a lecher, just like his father! You know this better than anyone. I've long known Barnett's obsession with you wasn't your fault."
