Ruby’s heart skipped a beat the moment she heard those words. With Patricia, every sentence felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. After all these years of bouncing from place to place, Ruby had learned to be careful. She was sharper now—always on guard, always suspicious. Patricia’s schemes were legendary. One careless move and Ruby would be tangled up before she even realized it.
Patricia wiped her hands with a tissue, balled it up, and tossed it into the trash with perfect aim. Just then, the bathroom door swung open.
Nina stepped in, wearing a dark green slip dress that hugged her figure and brushed her ankles. Under the soft lighting at Olive & Vine, her skin looked almost porcelain—flawless and luminous. Next to Ruby, who was still in her work clothes, Nina looked every bit the pampered socialite. She had that effortless grace, the kind that always caught Theo’s attention.
Theo had a type, and Nina was it.
Nina stopped short when she saw Patricia. For a second, she just stared, then something seemed to click in her mind. As she walked past Patricia, she suddenly grabbed her arm, her eyes dropping to Patricia’s legs with disbelief. “Your leg’s healed?”
Patricia pulled her hand away, her tone cool. “What, Ms. Miller? Is it so hard to accept I’m fine now?”
Nina’s jaw tightened. “Your leg’s fine, but my brother’s hand still aches every time it rains.”
Patricia’s lips curled into a cold smile. “If you care about him that much, maybe try breaking your own hand. See how it feels.”
Nina flinched, her fingers trembling. With Patricia, you could never be sure what she’d actually do.
Patricia let out a soft laugh, her eyes drifting toward the bathroom door. “Three years later and you’re still as clueless as ever, Ms. Miller.”
She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your real enemy was never me.”
Right then, the bathroom door opened again.
Ruby stepped out into the dim hallway, immediately sensing the tension. Both women were watching her. All three of them locked eyes, something unspoken passing between them.
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