The Smallest Part of the Betrayal
“It wasn’t his to give,” I said — the first time I had spoken directly to her since the door.
Damian stood, straightening his jacket, stepping back from her as though from something contagious.
“I had no knowledge of any stolen property,” he told his lawyer, fast.
“Whatever she took, she did on her own.”
Valentina stared at him.
“Damian.