Dorian's POV
The second Vivienne stepped through the door, I could tell something had gone terribly wrong.
Her complexion was ghostly white, her eyes hollow despite the forced smile stretching across her lips.
"Hey, my loves," she said, that fake smile growing even brighter.
I crossed my arms and frowned, but Quentin beat me to it.
"Are you okay?"
At least I wasn't losing my mind—he'd noticed it too.
"Yes, I am," Vivienne answered, collapsing onto the couch. "Just exhausted."
We were gathered in her private lounge—Quentin, Kenzie, and myself.
"What's wrong?" Quentin pressed, worry threading through his voice.
"She got wasted again," Vivienne said with defeat.
I wasn't shocked. When my mother had phoned about Kenzie, I'd expected drama.
"We have a court date."
That blindsided me. "What the hell did she do?"
Vivienne ran through the list, shaking her head in disbelief.
"A cop car?" Quentin burst out. "You totaled a police cruiser?"
My eyes went wide. This was a new low.
