CHAPTER SEVENTY – WAVING THE WHITE FLAG
Kayla's breath escaped in a sharp exhalation as dawning comprehension bloomed. Of course...of course the shrewd Lance Storm would have erected such failsafes against his mercurial mother's scheming.
For her part, Barbara looked as if she'd been dealt a physical blow,
Later that evening, Lance arranged for the three of them to sit down and talk things through. The tension was thick as Barbara swept into the penthouse, looking disheveled and lacking her usual bravado. She eyed Kayla with poorly-concealed disdain.
Without preamble, Barbara turned toward the windows, standing rigidly as if attending an important event. "Well, it seems you executed quite the checkmate, Lance. I must admit, you played it with your usual maddening audacity."
She stared out at the city lights, hands braced on the windowsill. "I thought I had outmaneuvered you at every turn, outplayed your emotions with calculated precision. Yet again, you anticipated my machinations like your stepfather."
An awkward silen

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