Claire's POV

Ivy blinked at me, catching her breath. Then her victim act returned, softer this time.

“Do you hate me that much?” she whimpered, loud enough to carry. “That you have to turn my apology into a circus?”

She looked up at the crowd, her bottom lip trembling. “I’m already on my knees. I’ve already lost everything. And still, it isn’t enough for you.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Eyes darted from Ivy’s lowered head to my grip on Damian’s wrist, then down to the cup. I saw the blame brewing before anyone dared speak up.

I didn't release Damian.

"If the wine is perfectly fine," I said with...