The other woman—no, that was me. His fiancée—laughed coldly, stepping toward Brielle and Gael, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t physically hurt me when she wrapped her baby-pink nails around his biceps, leaning into his shoulder as if they were a happy couple.
He gritted his teeth—but didn’t push her away, the rat bastard—before giving Brielle a formal half bow I’d never seen before. “I apologize, Brielle, and I’ll see her off the grounds immediately.”
Brielle nodded and spun away from them, her eyes locking with mine.
“Are you going to let this weak b***h speak to me that way, baby?” she simpered up at him before shooting a haughty smirk down her nose at Brielle’s back.
Brielle froze at Celeste’s words. And a split second later, when her eyes began to glow that ice-ringed brow
