Anastasia stood in the doorway, her presence unshakable, exuding the kind of calm authority that needed no words. Dressed impeccably in a tailored gray checkered suit, she crossed her arms, her gaze gliding across the group before her.
She met Serena's angry glare with an unsettling composure. "Do you remember what I told you last time?"
Serena's defiance wavered, a shiver creeping over her as she recalled the last time she'd dared to challenge Anastasia. The aftermath of that encounter had left a deep impression.
Marjorie's face twisted in disdain, her tone cold and condescending. "Anastasia, I've never liked you, but at least I believed your parents taught you basic manners. Is this how you speak to me?"
Years of Marjorie's relentless scorn had once worn on Anastasia. But not anymore
