They had barely entered the grand hall when a honeyed voice called out from nearby.
Quinn and Cyrus turned simultaneously toward the sound.
A woman stood there, wrapped in a champagne-colored mermaid gown that accentuated every curve. Her makeup was impeccable, her stiletto heels adding dangerous inches to her height. With an exaggerated gasp of delight, she hurried toward Cyrus, her face brightening with theatrical joy.
Only when she reached them did her gaze finally shift to Quinn. Her eyes swept over the other woman with subtle disdain before she forced a sugary smile. "Cyrus," she cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness, "who is this?"
"Quinn," Cyrus stated plainly. "My fiancée."
Quinn offered a polite nod.
The woman's hostility sharpened instantly. She let out a tinkling laugh.
