Cold, egotistical and a Foxton.
 He tore my final performance to shreds with his pen, and embarrassed me for all the world to see.
 But hate wasn’t what I felt for Scott Foxton when he touched me. Enemy wasn’t what I thought when he rescued me either.
 I got lost in dreams and hope, and ignored the threats that would follow my own deceit.
 For once in my life, family loyalty could be damned.
 But then I saw the painting.
 And now I can’t lie anymore.
 The man I shouldn’t want is the one that holds my heart.
 I just have to trust that he’ll still believe me when he knows the truth about Persephone Broderick.