Rachel didn't walk — she glided. That was the rule now. Chin high, spine straight, no flinching.
The moment she rounded the corner and left the glittering circle of women behind, her smile dropped like a curtain.
She needed a moment. Just one. A breath away from the perfume-thick air, the clink of crystal, the flash of judgment behind every compliment.
She turned down a quieter hall, one of those softly lit corridors lined with antique paintings and pointless doors. Probably led to service routes or storage. She didn't care. She just needed to not be seen.
Rachel exhaled, pressing a hand to her temple. The earrings she'd once adored now felt like weights.
"Lucky."
The word still rang in her ears like a slap.
She was about to move again when she heard voices—sharp, clear, too close.
"—I'm just saying, if Hidetsugu slips up even once, the board will eat him alive."
A man's voice. Cool. Amused. Wretched.
