Sophia arrived at her lavish penthouse just as the clock struck midnight, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she entered. She was furious—seething, really. The gala had only intensified her bitterness, each compliment to Valerie, every flash of a photographer’s camera, a reminder of what she had lost. What she was supposed to have. Sophia slammed the door behind her, breathing heavily, her fists clenched at her sides. She could feel the heat of her anger building with every step.
“Don’t come near me, Primily!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the empty hallways. The young woman, barely in her twenties, flinched at the sound. Primily, who had been quietly sitting on the couch, glanced up from her phone, her face a picture of confusion and fear.
"I wasn’t going to
