Revenge at the Altar
He put on a desperate performance, trying to paint himself as a tragic, misguided victim.
I remained silent.
A flicker of hope crossed Robin's eyes. He thought my silence was a sign that his pleas were working.
"I swear to God, my loyalty was to your father! If that woman hadn't twisted my mind, I never would have—"
I leaned forward, folding my hands on the table.
"Robin," I said, my voice soft but sharp as ice, freezing the words in his throat. "Do you really think any of that matters now?"
The color drained from his face.