Amilah stood frozen, the silence of the office ringing in her ears. Her chest heaved, each breath a jagged shard of glass. She stared at Lowin’s face pressed against Victoria’s, the toxic intimacy of the kiss. For a heartbeat, the world blurred, tears threatening to spill. But then she saw it: the flicker of triumph in Victoria’s eyes, the predatory smirk that lingered even as she clung to Lowin.
The realization hit Amilah like a physical blow. This wasn't betrayal; it was a weapon. Victoria wasn't winning Lowin; she was trying to destroy Amilah.
A cold, hard resolve crystallized in Amilah’s gut. She wouldn't break. She wouldn't be the victim in this twisted game of power. If Victoria wanted a war, Amilah would give her a m******e.
Lowin, meanwhile felt a wave of disgust wash over him.
