Chapter 12 Red Harvest

• "If you pull that corset any tighter, Megan, you won't live long enough to see Victoria Vane crawl," Casian growled, his gravelly voice breaking the silence of the master dressing room.
• Megan didn't flinch. She stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror, her hands steady as she smoothed down the silk of her gown. It was deep, unforgiving crimson—the exact shade of arterial blood. The dress hugged every line of her waist and hips before spilling down her legs in a sharp, structured tail. The back was cut impossibly low, exposing the smooth line of her spine down to the dip of her lower back.
• "I don't need oxygen to ruin your ex-fiancée, Casian," Megan replied smoothly, meeting his intense hazel gaze in the glass. "I just need ten minutes in the same room as her."