Ryan frowned. “Why bring that up again? Sophia was the victim. Aaron’s medical bills depended on the Hayes family. If you keep this up, I’ll stop his treatment right now. Do you want him dead?”
He didn’t even know Aaron was already gone—dead the very day Ryan “sought justice” for Sophia.
Looking at his self-righteous face, the itching in my throat turned to stabbing pain.
I hugged the urn tighter. “Fine. I won’t argue.”
Thinking I’d yielded, Ryan’s expression softened. He patted the sofa beside him. “That’s better. Tomorrow there’s an auction at the New York Art Center. Come with me, clear your mind. We’ll pick some jewelry for Sophia. Get along with her.”
I said nothing. My eyes drifted to the suitcase in the corner. After the auction, I would leave for good.
At the auction, Ryan escorted Sophia ahead of me. She wore a champagne-colored gown, glancing back with mocking eyes, while I trailed like a shadow.
As Ryan bid on one extravagant piece after another for Sophia, I felt nothing anymore.
“The next item: the final work of the late painter Edward Lane, Spring Rain Returns, starting bid: fifty thousand.”