"What are you doing here, Crescentia? You should have told us you were also invited. Then we could have come together," Magnus said with a smile that stretched unnaturally wide—wider than a joker's grin.
It was the kind of smile that looked like it had been painted on. The sight of it made Crescentia's skin crawl.
She met his gaze, her own smile equally polite, but laced with venom. "I could have, but after what Lucian pulled at my parents' funeral—and the way you didn't even bother to call to check up on me—I figured you were angry at me, Uncle."
The smile slipped off Magnus's face like oil from water. Gone was the fake warmth. His eyes turned to steel as he stared at her—cold, hard, and unblinking.
Victoria immediately stepped in, her tone sharp and reprimanding. "Crescentia, don't speak to your uncle like that. He tried to call you, but your phone was switched off."
