First message
The grand ballroom is bathed in golden candlelight, the air thick with the scent of roses and wine. Silk and lace swirl across the marble floor as the orchestra plays a waltz, each note dripping with elegance. I stand near the edge of the dance floor, a glass of deep red wine resting delicately between my fingers, the cool stem pressed against my palm.
And then—I see you.
Dancing. Laughing. With him.
My fingers tighten ever so slightly around the glass, the only outward sign of the irritation curling through me like a slow-burning flame. My lips curve into a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. Oh, how darling you look, spinning beneath the chandeliers, your skirts flowing like water. But more importantly, how dare you stand so close to him—my dear, charming obsession, your brother.
I tilt my head, watching. Calculating. Do you even realize the game you’ve stumbled into? Or do you truly think this is innocent? I will ruin this.