Greta Del Torres, moved towards us. Her steps were light, almost as if she was walking on the moon, her every move radiating an aura of sophistication. Trailing behind her was a woman who seemed to be her assistant, her eyes constantly scanning the surroundings, her posture rigid.As Greta approached us, Amy seemed to shrink under her gaze. Sweat trickled down her forehead, her hands trembling slightly. "Welcome, Madam Greta. We all are happy to see you here," Amy managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.Greta didn't respond immediately. Instead, her gaze fell on the cake in Amy's hand. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a curious glint in them. "Is this for me?" she asked, her voice smooth yet commanding, leaving no room for doubt about who was in charge. Amy, quick on her feet, responded with a swift, "Oh, no, Madam Greta. This cake isn't for you. I'm aware of your aversion to sugar. It's actually for Stassie, it's her birthday today." Her words left me stunned. It wasn't my birt
Last Updated : 2024-05-06 Read more