~~~A few weeks later~~~
Elaine’s voice was silk wrapped around steel—elegant, deliberate, and sharp enough to carve through stone. She could eviscerate you with a smile, lace her criticisms in honey, and somehow make you thank her for the privilege of her disdain.
Veronica admired that.
Craved it, even.
Because beneath her quiet devotion to Mark lay something harder. Hungrier.
Over coffee and scones in Elaine’s meticulously curated sunroom—a soft, golden space where everything smelled faintly of gardenias and wealth—their alliance began to bloom. Slowly at first, like a cautious orchid, and then with startling force, like spring breaking through frost. The room was warm, filled with the clink of porcelain, the scent of citrus polish, and a single thread of shared disdain.
Elaine d
