IVAN'S POV
Her expression wavered then, just for a breath—eyes flickering with something that looked like surprise, or longing, or both.
But she caught it before it slipped too far, sealing her features into something icy and distant.
"You're insane if you think the fact that the severance failed is good news," she snapped. "And fuck you, Ivan—I'm not yours. I'd rather eat a flaming cactus than let that happen again."
Every word was fire on her tongue, spat like venom, meant to kill.
"And for your information," she seethed, stepping back just enough to shove at my chest, "this isn't about you. Not everything revolves around your precious ego. I didn't walk out there naked to make you jealous. I did it because your plastic little wife had my clothes taken and told the maids to humiliate me. I walked out there like that because I refuse to cower. I refuse to be broken again. But of course you'd twist it into a fucking porno."
