The room turned deathly silent as Isabelle approached Seraphina. Each click of her heels against the marble floor was like a countdown to execution. I watched from across the ballroom, torn between intervening and letting this drama unfold.
Seraphina's bravado visibly crumbled as Isabelle stopped directly in front of her. Up close, the contrast between them was stark—Isabelle's composed elegance against Seraphina's increasingly desperate defiance.
"Did you have something to say to me directly, Mrs. Sterling?" Isabelle's voice carried effortlessly through the silent room, cool as winter frost.
Seraphina's mouth opened and closed, no words emerging. Beside her, Gideon looked like he might faint.
"I... I didn't mean..." Seraphina stammered.
