Elara’s POV
I glared between Adrian and the blonde in the red dress that had just stepped in, her heels clicking against the marble like she owned the place. My entire body went still. Then I slowly sat up from the sofa, folding my arms across my chest.
“What’s going on, Adrian? Who’s this?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
Adrian froze for half a second—like a child caught stealing sweets—then the expression vanished. His face slid back into that cold, unreadable mask he wore so well.
He sighed, exasperated, and turned to the blonde who was standing between us, mostly glaring and scoffing at me like I was in her way.
“Brenda, please leave. My driver will take you back to yours.” he said, tone clipped.
She frowned, clearly insulted. “It’s Brielle.” she corrected, flipping
