After she hung up, Helena took photos of the research she'd hidden for years and sent them to her brother. She then removed the engagement diamond ring and tossed it into a trash bin with a decisive motion.
Three years ago, she had been framed, trampled, stripped of everything. But now, she would not leave without a fight.
'Jackson—you ruined everything I had. Now it's my turn to ruin you.'
The next day.
Helena was awakened by the sound of flirtatious laughter drifting up from downstairs.
Before she could sit up, the door swung open. Jackson stood in the doorway, tall and cold-eyed, his expression carved from ice.
Laica followed behind him, affectionately holding his arm and looking at Helena with a proud attitude.
"Helena," Laica cooed, "we heard you got out. I even threw you a little welcome at the bar—everyone in our circle will be there. It's a perfect chance for you to get back into society."
Helena's lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile.
A welcome party?
Or an opportunity for the entire Boston to see how the once-promising prodigy had returned—crippled, disgraced, a convicted felon?
Her voice was dry but steady. "I'm not going."