Chapter 35

The bottle spun lazily on the glass table, the warm lighting from the chandelier above glinting off its surface as if mocking the people gathered around it. The air was charged with the faint tension of unspoken rivalries, thinly disguised beneath polite smiles and teasing laughter. Lily sat with one leg crossed neatly over the other, her fingers loosely cradling the stem of her wine glass. She had played the game cautiously at first, asking simple, harmless questions whenever the bottle landed on her. She had no interest in being the evening's main spectacle. Especially not for Marina's satisfaction. Marina's eyes had sparkled with that smug light people get when they think they've drawn blood. The little digs, the arch of her brow, the condescending tone—Lily had endured them all without flinching. She had let Marina believe she was winning. Now, as the bottle came to a slow stop before Lily again, the circle's attention shifted. Marina leaned forward slightly, her manicured nails ta