Thirty

Moore

The wine and food dripped down my face, the red liquid seeping into the fabric of my dress, staining my skin. Athena’s satisfied smirk burned into my memory, each drop a reminder of the disdain she held for me. Every part of me screamed to retaliate, to throw the plate back at her and wipe that smug smile off her face. But I stayed still, fists clenched by my side, nails digging into my palms.

If I reacted, my family would be held accountable. I didn’t know the full extent of their relationship, but I knew Lucien wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect from me towards anyone. But she started this, and I won’t just stand by and let her treat me like trash. I’ve had enough of her today to last a lifetime.

The room fell silent, everyone watching, waiting for my reaction. I felt their eyes on me—Lucien’s cold and indifferent, the domestic workers’ pitying, and Athena’s triumphant.

“That’s enough, Athena,” Lucien finally said, his voice carrying a note of irritation, but not anger. His gaze