Chapter 75: Crimson Marks

Chapter 75: Crimson Marks
The powder room glistened like a jewel box tucked behind the Grand Ballroom—a hidden oasis where the elite refreshed their smiles and masked their exhaustion before slipping back into the lights.

It was empty when Evelyn slipped in.

For a moment, she leaned against the marble counter, staring at herself in the mirror.

The girl looking back wore crimson.

Beautiful.

Deadly.

And tonight, she would not be broken.

She was adjusting the clasp of her necklace when the door swung open behind her.

Mia entered in a whisper of black satin.

Their eyes met in the reflection.

Mia smiled coolly.

"Of course it would be you," she said, voice soft as silk.

Evelyn turned slowly.

"Looking for a mirror?" she asked.

"No," Mia said. "Looking for the rat."

The powder room door clicked shut behind Mia.

She moved closer, heels silent on the marble floor.

"You think you’re clever," Mia said. "Sneaking into rooms you don't belong in. Stealing things you don't understand."

"I understand enough," Evelyn said evenly.

Mia’s smile sharpened into something feral.

"You’re a child playing queen," she said. "You have no idea the cost of power."

Evelyn straightened.

"I know exactly what it costs," she said. "I’m just not willing to pay in blood and silence."

Mia’s hand twitched slightly at her side.

Evelyn stepped forward, meeting her gaze.

"All those people you blackmailed," Evelyn said softly. "The ones you thought were weak. They're watching now. And they’re not scared of you anymore."

Something snapped.

Without warning, Mia's hand lashed out.

The sharp crack of the slap echoed off the marble.

Evelyn’s head whipped to the side, her cheek burning, a metallic taste blooming at the back of her throat.

The shock froze the room.

For half a heartbeat, there was only the sound of their breathing—shallow, furious.

Then Evelyn turned back slowly, eyes blazing.

And without hesitation, she slapped Mia back.

The impact was vicious.

Satisfying.

Mia stumbled a step, her hand flying to her cheek, her composure fracturing in an instant.

"You stupid little—" Mia hissed.

But Evelyn stepped forward, voice low and calm and lethal.

"No," she said. "I'm not little. I'm not stupid. And I’m not scared of you anymore."

They stood inches apart, chests heaving.

Two sides of a war neither could walk away from now.

"You think this ends with you leaking a few files?" Mia sneered. "You think the Society needs me to survive?"

"No," Evelyn said. "I think they need fear. And you just showed me you’re afraid."

Mia’s lip curled.

"You won't make it to the end of the night," she whispered.

"Then you'd better move fast," Evelyn said, stepping around her toward the door. "Because I'm already winning."

Evelyn slipped out into the hall without a glance back, the heat of Mia's glare burning into her spine.

Outside, the ballroom thrummed with music and chatter, oblivious to the war declared behind closed doors.

She found Liam and Clara near the refreshment tables, both scanning the crowd.

When they saw her flushed face, the redness blooming across her cheek, they stiffened immediately.

Liam stepped forward.

"What happened?"

Evelyn smiled thinly.

"Consider it a formal declaration of war."

Clara’s eyes widened. "She hit you?"

"And I hit her back," Evelyn said. "Hard."

Clara grinned despite herself. "Good."

"Better," Evelyn said, voice firm. "Because now she knows—I'm not the same girl who let them kill me the first time."

In the heart of the Gala, the Society glittered on borrowed power.

But in the cracks of the marble, rebellion bloomed.

And Evelyn Monroe—once the pawn they thought they could sacrifice—was about to tip the entire board.

One slap at a time.