#Chapter 98: Plaything

Amelia The gala still glittered behind me, chandeliers spilling golden light across polished floors, when I felt her presence. Jenny stepped from the shadows near the grand staircase as though she had been waiting all night for this moment, her eyes sharp and predatory, her lips curled in a smile that promised damage. The grand hall behind me buzzed with music and polite laughter, but the air shifted with her arrival, and I could feel the tension prickling across my skin before she even spoke. Cameras were still flashing in the ballroom, catching the final notes of speeches and toasts, but some of the hungrier reporters had already trailed after her, sensing blood in the water. She waited until I was close enough, her timing precise, and then she struck with the venom of someone who had rehearsed the cruelty long before. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she sneered, her voice pitched perfectly for the recorders and lenses surrounding us, every syllable dripping with satisfaction. “You