Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 65

I’m momentarily frozen.

He’s here.

It’s like deja vous. Only it’s his ‘new’ fiancee in the spotlight now.

Oddly, the bright sanitation uniform isn’t much different than the one I wore in prison.

I’m in a daze. The scene of me crawling to him in prison, begging him to believe me appeared before my eyes again.

I shut it down.

I don’t need him. Or anyone in this world.

My strength is a force all its own.

Lily senses it too and her smile slips. She’s terrified, I realize.

And she should be.

With the cameras and press closing in and snapping photos, what if I were to start railing about how they’d treated me and abused me? What if I attack them for this ridiculous stunt with the ring? And tell the reporters what really happened.

The press would devour such a story and no one would believe that this ring episode that happened at the exact place where “Jennifer Atkinson’s Murderer” worked was a coincidence.

As it is, it was a stretch for Lily to be anywhere near this neighborhood.

Sean holds his breath, waiting to see what I will do next.

Lily glances at him from the corner of her eyes, and I know she’s thinking the same thing.

I smile and weigh my options.

Lily’s hands shake as she hands me the gift box. Her smile slips. "This is for you,” she says. “I'm sorry for making you search for my ring the other day."

I quietly take the gift box without saying a word and turn to leave.

After I get back to the center, I hand the box to Claire, saying, “Here, you take it."

"Oh? Don't you want to keep the clothing?" Claire asks in amazement.

"I have enough clothes," I reply.

“The check’s still in here..."

"I don't want it," I say.

I look at the clock and see that the lunch break is about to end. After picking up the tools, I head toward the section of highway that I’ve been assigned to sweep.

I heave a sigh of relief when I see that the reporters who had come for the event have left.

However, when I step out of the Sanitation Service Center, it’s Sean who’s walking toward me…

* * * * * * * * *

SEAN

Fear trickles through Grace and I can smell it.