Emilia spotted her the moment she walked in.
Delilah, stretched out on her mat in the far corner, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, wearing a matching pink set.
Of course she did. Jax paid his assistants well.
Too well, apparently.
The assistant looked relaxed, scrolling through her phone with a casual confidence that made Emilia's blood simmer.
Of course she looked relaxed. She had beauty, and nothing to lose.
Emilia made her way across the polished wood floor, her mat tucked under her arm. A few women glanced up briefly as she passed, but most were absorbed in their pre-yoga rituals—adjusting their hair, checking their phones, chatting quietly about diamond ring sizes with friends. The usual Saturday routine for rich ladies.
Relaxing music was already playing, creat
