Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 891

Honora felt as if she’d been struck by lightning. A violent tremor shot through her body, and her eyes filled with despair and disbelief. She couldn't fathom that Larissa had bugged her.

"Larissa," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear, "when… when did you plant that on me?"

Larissa didn't answer directly. A mocking smile played on her lips as she asked, "What do you think?"

The world spun around Honora. Her mind went blank. She was completely exposed. Everything—from killing that monster Hendrix Coleman to every secret she and Lucius had discussed at the Luminary Arts Centre—Larissa had heard it all.

Honora’s face turned deathly pale, her lips drained of all color. "It's over…" she whispered. "It's all over…"

Larissa looked at Honora's terrified expression and sneered. "I told you, Honora. It wasn't that I wouldn't deal with you, it was just that I didn't want to yet. Thanks for your help, my little mobile listening device."

With a final taunt, she turned to Fergus and held up the silver box. "Fergus, with all the evidence Honora provided, your precious cousin, Lucius, has absolutely no hope of a comeback."

With that, Larissa turned and left with the silver box, not even bothering to lay a hand on Honora. Why get her own hands dirty? She would let Fergus handle it. She knew he would take out all his anger and frustration—the anger of knowing Lucius couldn't save him—on Honora. She had always enjoyed watching dogs turn on each other.

Sure enough, moments after she left, she heard Fergus's enraged roar from behind her. "Honora, you stupid bitch!"

A smile touched Larissa’s lips. Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Livia.

She flashed a knowing glance before answering. Livia's excited voice came through the line. "Ms. Judson, Damon just called me. He said he’s willing to sell me his shares."

"It's a trap, one hundred percent," Larissa stated flatly.

Lucius waited at the Tyson villa for two long hours before he heard a car pull up outside. A few moments later, Livia walked in.

When she saw Lucius sitting on the sofa, she froze, her hand tightening on the strap of her shoulder bag. She turned to leave, but it was too late. Two bodyguards blocked her path.

Lucius rose and walked toward her.

"Livia," he said, his voice hoarse, "it's surprisingly difficult to get a moment with you. I don't even know where you've been living."

Livia sensed something was deeply wrong. It was his eyes, his voice. They were off.