Chiara
My heart began pounding so hard I thought the entire summit could hear it.
“Here,” Emilia said mildly, lifting the glass again as her lips curved slightly.
My ears rang, and I couldn’t breathe.
It had been months since I had last seen that face, and now she stood in front of me, dressed as a waiter, staring at me as if nothing had happened.
Her voice was the same: that calm cruelty laced with pain.
“I—I’m fine,” I whispered, my fingers curling into my dress.
She tilted her head slightly, as if studying me. Then, to my shock, she bowed, a small, polite bow.
“Enjoy the evening, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Me? Now, what was she up to?
She didn’t cause a scene or do anything outrageous. She just… left.
My hand pressed against my thigh under the table. I didn’t even realize I was trembling
