Chapter 232
Chapter 232:
“Miss Mitchell, it’s very kind of you to say that, but you don’t know Yelena like we do—she’s cold, standoffish, and downright unpleasant,” Sonya scoffed, her tone dripping with malice.
It was a calculated move. If everyone believed Yelena was a lost cause, they’d steer clear of her, leaving her out in the cold. And nothing pleased Sonya more than knocking someone like Yelena off her high horse.
Monica pressed her lips together, her thoughts circling like vultures. It seemed Yelena’s unpopularity was a foregone conclusion.
Yet, a nagging question lingered in Monica’s mind—why would Austin, of all people, give someone like Yelena the time of day?
Monica’s eyes narrowed as she studied Yelena from across the room. Yelena’s profile was striking—sharp features, a swan-like neck that practically screamed elegance.
To Monica, it was an eyesore she simply couldn’t ignore. Whenever something or someone rubbed her the wrong way, her instinct was always the same—to tear them down completely.
As her lips curved into a subtle, almost imperceptible smile, an idea began to take shape.
Meanwhile, Yelena found the party about as entertaining as watching paint dry.
The air was thick with shallow compliments and underhanded jabs—a battlefield of empty words masquerading as polite conversation. The whole affair was excruciatingly tedious.
Deciding she’d had enough, Yelena made a beeline for the buffet tables. If nothing else, at least the hotel’s food would be worth her time.
She picked up a piece of tiramisu, savoring the delicate layers with slow pleasure, allowing the rich flavor to melt on her tongue.
𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺
At that moment, a waitress approached, balancing a tray laden with champagne, red wine, and an assortment of juices.
With a polite smile, the waitress offered, “Miss, would you care for a drink p>
Yelena glanced up and shook her head. “No, thank you p>
Just as the waitress was turning to leave, a sudden jolt from the crowd caused someone to bump into her. The tray wobbled dangerously, and before anyone could react, a glass of red wine tipped over, splashing onto Yelena’s pristine white dress.
The stain spread quickly, vivid red blotches marring the fabric.
The waitress gasped, her face draining of color. “Oh no! I’m terribly sorry! Someone bumped into my arm, and I—I didn’t mean for this to happen p>
She immediately extended a hand, her voice full of apology as she reached for a napkin to clean up the mess.
Yelena, with a calm that was almost serene, stopped her. She glanced at the stains on her dress and nodded softly. “It’s fine. I’ll just go to the ladies’ room and clean up p>
With that, she turned and made her way toward the restroom, her composure unshaken.
As fate would have it, Monica was stepping out of the ladies’ room just as Yelena passed her. Their shoulders brushed, and Monica’s eyes followed Yelena’s retreating form.
A sly, satisfied smile curved Monica’s lips as she watched Yelena disappear into the ladies’ room.