The grand hall was full of fancy lights and rich people having fun. Olivia, in her tight dress, moved gracefully through the room. She stopped when she saw Avery, who was just standing there, not doing anything important. Olivia thought Avery was worthless and quietly called her useless with a mean look on her face.
Avery, the stepsister with opportunistic veins where blood should have been, hadn't even managed the simplest task: infiltrating Xavier's fortress of solitude. Olivia's lips twisted in annoyance-how hard was it to seduce a man who wore his infidelity like a badge of honor?
She looked around and saw Finn Knight in the distance. He seemed small next to his dad, Mr. Knight. Olivia didn't like him and felt happy that he had lost his job at Xavier's company. She knew it was mean, but she felt a little pleased inside. She rolled her eyes again and quietly wished for better people around her.
"Champagne," she demanded more than she requested, snatching a flute from a passing waiter's tray. The liquid gold inside bubbled with false promises, much like the company she kept. As she took a sip, the cool effervescence did little to quench the heat of her frustration. Where was Cathleen, the woman who held the key to unraveling all of Olivia's carefully laid plans?
Every tick of the clock was a taunt, and every murmur in the room was a reminder of what hung in the balance-power, love, and the bitter tang of betrayal. They were all pawns in this gilded cage, bound by blood or ambition, each nursing wounds inflicted by those they dared to trust.
"Family," Olivia scoffed quietly to herself, the word leaving a bitter taste that not even the finest champagne could cleanse. Her eyes continued their relentless patrol, watching for the one woman who stood between her and everything she desired.
Cathleen's arrival was a forceful hush, a whirlwind of quiet power that made heads swivel as if she wielded control over the very atmosphere. Each step she took into the Glow Girl Hall was a dance of confidence, her attire embracing her like a long-lost lover. The whispers around her grew louder, forming a symphony of awe, but Olivia stood out among the onlookers, her gaze sharp with envy, analyzing every detail with seasoned spite.
Then, as if summoned from the shadows, Xavier emerged. His presence loomed, a dark gravity that pulled all things toward him. With an ownership that spoke volumes, he slid his hand along Cathleen's waist, and the smile she offered him was a viper's dance-seductive and dangerous. It was then, in the glint of their shared glance, that Olivia felt the cold grip of exclusion. Cathleen was his orbit, his satellite, and Olivia was a mere onlooker to their celestial waltz. Olivia, more than ever, was sure Xavier and Cathleen were having sex.
"Stop!" Olivia hissed at a passing waiter, her hand snatching a glass of champagne. The bubbly drink glinted with false allure. Locking eyes with the server, she commanded in a tone as sharp as shattered glass, "Deliver this to the Face of Glow Model." Her words dripped with hidden malice, veiled in silk. "Wish her well, but don't reveal who sent it."
The waiter, a mere pawn in Olivia's twisted scheme, followed her orders obediently. He weaved through the opulent crowd towards Cathleen, offering the champagne flute with a practiced grin. "A gift for the lady from a generous investor," he announced smoothly.
Cathleen's lips curled into a smile that hinted at secrets; her eyes scanning the crowd as she took a sip, searching for the phantom benefactor. But no sooner had the glass touched her lips, than duty beckoned her forward, her name announced with pomp and fanfare.
"Ms. Cathleen, the stage awaits," an organizer called out, gesturing to the platform that stood like a throne awaiting its queen.
Olivia stood mesmerized by the unfolding spectacle, the once-sweet champagne now bitter on her tongue. With each deliberate stride Cathleen made towards the stage, Olivia felt her coveted world slip further away. The applause that reverberated through the room served as a painful reminder of all that she yearned for but could never attain.
Cathleen stepped onto the stage, her presence striking against the dazzling background. The microphone gripped in her hand felt weighty like a royal scepter waiting to decree orders. Yet a strange unease clouded her confidence. A creeping warmth slithered up her kitty, distinct from the bright stage lights that bathed her form. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, betraying a subtle glimmer on her skin.
"Thank you all for believing in the vision of Glow Girl," she began, her voice steady despite the inferno building within her. The audience watched, rapt, unaware of the silent battle she waged against her own body's betrayal.
Xavier's gaze was sharp, hawk-like, as he observed Cathleen from his seat at the investors' table. A crease marred his brow, and his lips were thinning. This wasn't the calculated poise of the Cathleen he knew-a woman who wielded her allure like a weapon. No, this was different and erratic. And it irked him.
"Xavier." The interruption grated on him like nails on glass. He swiveled, his icy stare landing on Avery, whose presence alone was enough to stir the venom in his veins. With a glare that spoke volumes of warning, Xavier wordlessly commanded her to retreat into the shadows, where he believed she belonged.
Then movement caught his eye-Finn, his once-favored nephew, trailing after Cathleen as she excused herself from the stage mid-sentence. The sight sparked a wildfire of suspicion in Xavier's chest. Was this a prelude to infidelity? A choreographed dance of deceit?
Xavier leaped to his feet, his chair scraping back with aggression that mirrored his inner turmoil. Every instinct screamed that Cathleen was beckoning Finn, orchestrating another sordid chapter in their tangled history. And Xavier, ever the hunter, would not be made a fool. He strode after them, his shadow long and foreboding-a specter of retribution threading through the crowd.
The opulence of the hall, the rustle of silk, and the delicate chime of crystal all melted away. All that remained now was the relentless chase for truth in a sea of false affection and feigned allegiance.