Page 206 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
But Francine Shaw wasn’t distracted. She was locked in—watching me, watching Callie, watching the hand I had resting over her thigh. A small gesture, sure, but one that said mine without a single word.
Her eyes snapped to Callie’s face. And I saw it.
The rot beneath the surface.
The mask slipping.
Contempt for her only child.
I almost stood up.
But then Callie did something else entirely.
She didn’t shrink. She didn’t drop her eyes.
She leaned in and kissed me. Soft and sure. Right along the line of my jaw, where she knew I was most sensitive. Her lips barely grazed my skin, but it wrecked me.
It wasn’t for show.
It was for me.
And I felt it—felt her. Not the girl she used to be, trained to cower under her mother’s glare. But the woman she was now. The woman she’d become despite the disdain.
Her fingers tightened around mine.
I squeezed back.
She didn’t have to say anything. I already knew. She was done letting that woman decide her worth. She had me now, and more importantly?
She finally had herself.
?? ?? ??
I’d dragged Callie into the kitchen with me under the guise of helping plate up, but really, I just wanted her away from her mother. That woman couldn’t keep her claws to herself.
Sure enough, Francine had come creeping down the hallway, feigning the need to find the restroom. Her eyes swept the room, searching for Callie like she owned her.
Callie moved, about to step away, probably to show her.
I didn’t let her.
My hand slid around her waist, holding her in place, and I offered Francine a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. Calm, polite, but deadly.
“Down the hall, second on the left,” I said smoothly.
Her eyes snapped to mine. She registered the steel under the civility. I saw the moment it landed—saw her face shrivel and her expression darken. She turned sharply, heels clicking as she stomped off like a scolded child.
Worth it. Every second of it.
?? ?? ??
Dinner came with drama, and as the sound of cutlery scraping against porcelain filled the silence, Francine decided to pipe up.
“So, you’re living in sin now, Calista?”
Her voice dripped with false piety—condescending in a way that told me this was the air Callie had been raised to breathe.
She bit into a carrot and a sliver of beef rib, eyes locked on Callie.
