Cecilia's POV
"Princess Cecilia, there was a bit of a scene at the entrance just now." My maid kept her head down, her voice full of flattery. "It was Brian from the Blackwood Pack, with that country bumpkin Luna of his, dressed in some cheap rhinestone dress. The security guards treated them like stray dogs and blocked them right outside the VIP entrance."
I leaned back on the plush sofa, a glass of expensive crimson vodka in my hand. Hearing this, I let out a disdainful laugh.
"The Blackwood Pack is already as good as a rotting corpse," I said lazily, swirling the glass and watching the red liquid leave elegant streaks on the crystal. "Brian, that pathetic poser, doesn't belong in a gathering for the elite. I wouldn't even waste the effort to look down on trash like him."
"
