Izzy shook her head as she swirled the wine in her glass. She watched the liquid coat the sides before taking a slow sip. She leaned back against the couch, stretching her legs out. Just like her, Liam was wearing a robe, his posture relaxed, though she knew better than to mistake it for complacency.

“You could,” Izzy admitted, tilting her head slightly as Liam reached for her legs. His fingers pressed into the sole of her foot. kneading the tension away. She exhaled softly, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation. “But why rush?”

Liam’s thumbs worked against a particularly sore spot, and he smirked when he felt her toes curl. “Because I don’t see the point in dragging this out. You want Monica to pay–I can make it happen tonight.” He met her gaze. “No loose ends.”

Izzy watched him for a moment, then smiled. “And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t.” She shifted slightly, adjusting her position as she placed her empty wine glass on the side table. “Don’t you think it’s better this way? Watching them scramble, thinking they have the upper hand, only to realize–too late–that they never had a chance?”

Liam’s fingers slowed, his grip steady as he traced slow circles against her ankle. “You’d rather draw it out?”

Izzy leaned forward, propping her elbow on the armrest. “I’d rather make sure they feel every second of their failure.” Her smile widened, her fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. “I Monica or Cecil were to disappear tonight, what then? A few weeks of grief? Maybe some forced sympathy from Amalia? That’s too easy.”

Liam tilted his head, watching her.

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watches every opportunity slip through her fingers, if she thinks she’s finally secured

through his nose, his hand sliding up to her calf. “And here I thought I was the ruthless

forward, dragging her nails lightly down his

fingers pressing against the delicate skin of her ankle. “So we let them

Let them get desperate. Because when people are desperate, they make mistakes.” She reached for her wine glass again, though she didn’t take a sip. Instead, she twirled the stem between her fingers. “Cecil thinks she’s untouchable. She’s spent years

his thumb along the inside of her ankle. “You want her to fall

want her to destroy herself,” Izzy corrected. “I want her to think she’s winning, to believe she’s one step ahead, only to

his grip on her leg before pulling her closer, his

lips. “Oh, Liam,” she said, taking a slow sip.

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