"We're here for Pandora," Emilian says.
"Oh?" Angela laughs melodically. "My, quite the turnout for such a plain little girl."
"Where is she?" I demand, taking a step forward. "Where is Pandora?"
"Oh, she's not here," Angela chirps, laughing. "They left this morning."
"They?" I hiss, approaching her. She glances at Emilian as if to see whether he'll protect her from me, but he doesn't make a move to stop me. Swallowing thickly, Angela returns her attention to me.
"She had a girl with her," Angela mutters, waving her hand dismissively. "Someone called Alli something or other."
"Didn't you recognize her?" Emilian hisses. "Didn't you realize who that was?"
"No," she says, looking confused. "Some stray she picked up along the way, from what I heard. A no one."
"It was your daughter," Emilian mutters, the disgust so plain in his voice it leaves no room for questions about why they broke up. He doesn't love this woman. She's so vapid, so self-involved, she doesn't give a shit about anyone. "It was Lily Anna."
To her credit, the bitch actually blanches. "Lily Anna's dead."
"She's not," I hiss. "But she is fucking dangerous, and she's out to hurt Pandora."
"Oh, my darling girl would never hurt Pandora," she smiles. "She was such a good girl. Such a good baby."
"You didn't even recognize her, so don't feed us that bullshit," I mutter. "Where are they? Where did they go?"
"I don't know," she shrugs helplessly, fluttering her lashes at Emilian. "How could I possibly know?"
"How
could you let them go without knowing where they went?" I demand. "How could you let her leave with a goddamn killer?"
"Pandora is a killer?" she asks, fucking clueless.
"No, Lily Anna!" I've had enough, and I smash my fist into the limo, leaving behind a dent. Everyone's fucking silent as I face Angela. "You need to tell us when they left and where they went. Right the fuck now, woman. Your daughter—your biological daughter—is in danger. And so is Lily Anna, if I get my hands on her."
"I don't k-know w-w-where they went," she stutters pathetically. "They were gone this morning."
"Why would they just leave like that?" Emilian asks. "Without telling you? What the fuck did you do?"
"Nothing!" she cries out before bursting into tears and covering her face with her hands. "I didn't do anything wrong, nothing, nothing..."
"Cut the fucking theatrics, Angela," Emilian demands. His voice leaves no room for argument, and Pandora's mother sniffles a few more times before pulling her hands back. There are no tears on her face. She looks as calm as ever. "Just tell us where they are. And what you did. Are they okay? You didn't hurt them, did you?"
"I did what was for the best," she hisses. "I did what I had to do."
Emilian pales. With a single step, he approaches her, wrapping his arms around her. But this is no lover's embrace—no, his grip on his ex-wife carries a warning. She knows he's going to hurt her now, and her Botoxed face pales even more.
"What did you do?" he demands. "What did you fucking do?"
"I gave her some medicine," she smiles sweetly. "What else was I supposed to do? Let her end up like me?" She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. "No. She couldn't handle this. Loving a man who doesn't give a shit about her. Pining after someone who has a new family. Because that's what would happen to her. Just like it did to me."
She shuts Emilian up with those words, pushing past him to glare at me.
"Are you Dexter Booth?" I nod, and she smiles weakly. "You look just like your father."
Her words mean so much to me I almost choke up, but then I remember why we're there. "Where is she?"
"They ran away," Angela mutters. "I don't know where. But I'm warning you now, Dexter Booth. You don't get to break that girl's heart. And you'd better take care of the kid if it isn't gone already."