By cold they meant that I never gave them gossip. Neither did I give them a show of my and Christopher's relationship.
The moment they noticed me, both of them fell silent, but the damage was done. I kept walking, my heels clicking against the polished floor. Eventually, I returned to my cabin.
On my desk, my resignation letter and a black velvet pouch were placed on the table. I put the pouch into my pocket, along with the letter, and made my way to Connor’s office.
When I reached outside Christopher’s cabin, I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed the door open and startled the two of them.
Scarlett was sitting on the edge of Christopher's desk. Her doe-eyed expression turned to fear as she saw me.
“Victoria, this isn’t—” Scarlett began, her voice trembling.
“Out,” I snapped, cutting her off.
Chirsptopher’s eyes narrowed. There was a warning flashing across his face. “Victoria, watch yourself.”
Ignoring him, I reached into my pocket and tossed the black pouch onto the desk. It landed with a soft thud, spilling its contents—a pair of black stockings.
“Next time you sneak into my house,” I said coldly, “don’t leave your things behind.”