Anna sat in the lounge of her husband's mansion, delicately sipping on a glass of Château Lafite Rothschild. Her mind was consumed by thoughts of her son, Damien, and this maddening mistress, Scarlett.
God, that woman drove her wild with rage!
Despite their marriage, Anna still preferred to think of Scarlett as a lowly mistress. That was all she was, after all, all she could ever be to her son. She was unable to fathom how Damien could stoop so low as to pick such a girl.
Anna suddenly felt a presence behind her. She turned to see a maid standing there.
"Why are you standing there like a ghost?" She snapped. "What do you want?"
The maid timidly approached Anna. "Excuse me, Madam," she said, her eyes fixed on the floor. "Miss Moore is here to see you."
Anna's frown deepened as she set
