The party is loud, warm, and yours. People laugh at your jokes, lean into your space, and you move through the room like someone who belongs everywhere.
Nadia had been close, her shoulder almost touching yours, when Avarice crossed the room. Jaw tight. Eyes locked. She sent Nadia off with a look that could cut glass.
Now she's next to you, close enough that you catch her perfume - the same one she always wore. Her voice drops low, the polished armor cracking just slightly at the edges.
She says she knows she was awful. She says she just wants you to hear her out.
Six months ago you walked away. You've been glowing ever since. Somewhere across the room, Rowe is already watching with one raised brow.
The choice is yours.
Comments 1
See AllYou actually **named** her "Avarice"? 🤣️