Chapter 11

Mara clenched her jaw as she pushed Cassandra’s hand away, gently massaging her stinging cheek. The pain wasn’t just physical—it burned deeper, but with all these high-society women watching, she couldn’t afford to lose it. These socialites were gossip machines. If Mara rejected Cassandra’s apology, they’d say she was petty. If she slapped Cassandra back, sure, it’d feel satisfying for a second, but tomorrow’s headline would brand her some uncivilized shrew—which would totally wreck her refined-lady image. Cassandra planned this too well, damn it. She hadn’t just forced Mara to choke down a cockroach—she’d also cornered her into smiling and pretending it tasted good. “Miss Hawthorne, are you not willing to accept my apology?” Cassandra lowered her gaze as if hurt, her long lashes conveniently hiding the smirk in her eyes. Mara was stuck—refusing looked bad, accepting felt worse. She felt her mother’s stern eyes on her, telling her to suck it up. With a stiff smile and a bitter swallow, Mara finally said, “Since Miss Taylor’s being so sincere, it’d look petty of me to hold a grudge.” “Thanks for being so gracious, Miss Hawthorne. Then let’s make peace with a hug,” Cassandra said with a smile, but didn’t give Mara a chance—she grabbed her into a tight embrace. Leaning close, she whispered by Mara’s ear, “Disgusting, huh? That’s the kind of twisted fun I enjoy.” With that, she let go, still radiating grace and class like nothing happened. “I’ll go find my mother. Madam Taylor, ladies, Miss Taylor—goodbye,” Mara said with a calm smile, her last word tinged with hidden meaning. She turned and walked off, but her fists were trembling against her chest—rage barely under control. Cassandra, we are officially done. Seeing the drama “resolved,” the other women started to disperse. Old Madam Evelyn shot Cassandra a glare full of disdain before letting Vera lead her toward the VIP seating. What an absolute embarrassment. A girl with that kind of arrogance had no business being called a lady. If her husband hadn’t specifically asked her to let Cassandra come along to “see the world,” Evelyn wouldn’t have wasted the trouble. Cassandra knew very well the old woman couldn’t stand her—and she wasn’t looking for her approval either. With a wry tilt of her crimson lips, she strolled to the very last row, claiming a dark corner seat. Her cold gaze locked in on Mara. Don’t think just because Faye is six feet under, you can snatch what was once hers. Game on. By the time Cassandra snapped out of her thoughts, the auction was almost over. “Now, for the final item of tonight’s showcase—the Queen’s Serenade. This ring, legend says, was Cleopatra’s favorite piece. Designed as an ouroboros, it’s set with a stunning 5.77-carat, emerald-cut blue diamond. The symbol represents eternal life, or perhaps a rebirth…” The host’s tone was dramatic and intense as he laid out the ring’s background, before announcing, “We’ll start this final bid at 3 million. Each raise is 500,000…” Cassandra narrowed her eyes, locked onto the blue gem glowing ominously under the lights—it shimmered with a strange, dangerous allure. For reasons she couldn’t explain, her heart stirred. She wanted that ring—really wanted it.