The knight's mansion had never felt so oppressive. Its opulent walls, once alive with laughter, clinking glasses, and lively chatter, now seemed to close in, heavy with unspoken fury. Vanessa stood by the grand fireplace, her hands clenched, knuckles white, her eyes burning into Sean with a fierceness that could ignite the room. Sienna leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, her icy demeanor amplifying the tension that crackled like static in the air.
Sean, infuriatingly composed, almost regal, lounged against the marble railing, his lips curling into a slow, taunting smile. "Vanessa, Sienna," he purred, voice smooth as velvet, "why so tense? Surely you're not planning to make a scene?"
Vanessa's voice sliced through the air, taut with barely restrained rage. "A scene? Sean, do you even grasp what you're doing? Manipulating everyone in this house, toying with Courtney, undermining Dwayne…" Her words faltered, her control fraying as she fought to keep her voice steady.
