Carson’s car coasted through the city streets, the leather seats creaking gently as he turned to the driver. “Hey, drop Marina off first, will ya?”

Marina caught the edge in Carson’s voice and offered a light chuckle. “What’s got you so riled up? Still steamed about Timothy’s stunt?”

Carson laughed at himself, a touch of irony in his tone. “I can’t believe I actually introduced that clown to Charlie at the club. Talk about a faux pas.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Marina reassured him. “Charlie’s a wise guy; he won’t hold it against you.”

Carson grumbled, “There’s this unspoken rule in our circle—not to drag in outsiders for personal favors. I bumped into Timothy at my uncle’s place and he wanted to meet Charlie. Couldn’t very well say no in front of my uncle, could I? But at 9th Mansion, Timothy shows his true colors, and man, I was ticked off. To top it off, he goes and hits on Sylvia. Utterly repulsive.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best,” Marina said. “Now you can see Timothy for who he really is and tell your cousin to kick him to the curb.”

Carson scoffed bitterly. “You think she doesn’t know what kind of a guy Timothy is? She’s got not one, but two sugar boys on the side. She and Timothy are cut from the same cloth.”

Marina sighed, a hint of sorrow in her voice. “So, this is the family legacy, huh?”

Carson raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re quick to call Ms. Foster trash, but as her cousin, you haven’t exactly been a role model, have you?” Marina prodded.

snorted. “And what’s wrong with

pointed look. “Need I remind you about Cicely? Or

dating? If it doesn’t work out, you move on.

mention of Freddy stung Marina like a thorn in her side, a topic off-limits to all. Her face clouded over, and she turned to the driver. “Can you pull over up

it out but can’t take

turning

are we doing, arguing like this? I’m

interjected cautiously, “Should

Neither answered.

eyes for a moment, then turned back with a slight flush of embarrassment. “No need to

mock away next

smiled. “Then I’d be

bullied by your own lady isn’t a bad

reddened. “Who’s your

fiancée, who else?”

retorted, “Don’t forget our

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