With a slow, deliberate turn of her head, Katelyn’s cold stare pierced the chattering group, silencing them in an instant. Unfazed by the whispers, she reminded herself of why she was there. The unraveling of the Ruiz family’s secrets was her only priority tonight—not entertaining trivial gossip.
Still, the voices crept back in, growing bolder.
“Look at her pretending to be untouchable. Who does she think she is?”
“Typical. Acting is important when everyone knows she’s a nobody.”
“Best to steer clear. She’s nothing but trouble waiting to happen.”
The snide remarks reached Ryanna’s and Annie’s ears. While Ryanna’s face betrayed no emotion, Annie’s lips curled into a sly, mocking smile.
Pathetic fool. If Katelyn had any self-respect, she wouldn’t have dared show her face here. Despair seemed to cling to her like a shadow, her presence now the target of scorn. Despite knowing full well what awaited her here, she had still chosen to face the ridicule head-on. What a numb little bitch.
Fiona, who had orchestrated this setup with precision, felt her earlier tension fade now that her plan had succeeded. Her satisfaction left her uncharacteristically composed.
Leaning closer to Ryanna, Annie murmured, “Ryanna, I think I’ll go have a word with Miss Bailey.”
A polite, detached smile crossed Ryanna’s lips as she acknowledged Katelyn with a faint nod.
“Suit yourself,” Ryanna replied with a casual wave of her hand.
Annie gracefully plucked a cocktail from a passing tray and began her approach, each step purposeful and poised.
Meanwhile, Katelyn lounged on a nearby sofa, her posture relaxed, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her glass as she sipped with an air of indifference. Around her, the whispers persisted, but she paid them no mind.
Stopping a few feet away, Annie offered a radiant smile.
“Miss Bailey, it’s been far too long,” she said, settling herself elegantly into the seat opposite Katelyn.
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Every gesture Annie made seemed calculated to project superiority, as though the room itself gravitated toward her presence.
Yet Katelyn didn’t flinch. Her mere stillness carried a weight that effortlessly overshadowed Annie’s polished display.
With a faint smirk tugging at her lips, Katelyn finally spoke.
“Too long? Didn’t we cross paths just days ago during the competition? Or perhaps you’ve been preoccupied, Countess Annie, consumed with thoughts of me, where every day apart feels like an eternity?”
Their exchange crackled with unspoken tension—any pretense of civility quickly unraveling in the undercurrent of rivalry. The cracks in their relationship were impossible to ignore, making even the thought of forced politeness feel like a sick joke.
Annie’s movements faltered for just a split second, her expression hardening as her eyes locked with Katelyn’s.
Her fingers curled tightly around the stem of her glass, her voice dripping with disdain.
“Consumed with thoughts of you? Don’t flatter yourself. Maybe you should take a moment to face reality and see just how insignificant you truly are.”
Katelyn, unfazed, arched an eyebrow and took another measured sip of her drink. A soft, amused laugh escaped her lips.
.
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