"Well... shit." It's not the most eloquent of reactions, but it feels pretty right given what she knows about her cover. The amusement slips off her face, and instead she lets sympathy and compassion wash over her features. "Though, if I may, a small but vitally important distinction? You are meeting a woman with the same name as your dead fiancée who tried to kill you for your money. Speaking as someone who has never tried to kill you, I'd appreciate it."

Still, fucking rough. "Do you want to... talk about it? Or use me vent some leftover anger? I don't mind."