"Denis, wait," Tania called out, wincing as her high heels dug painfully into her feet. She reached out, desperate to grab his hand.
Denis exhaled sharply and turned toward her, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. His expression remained tense, his breathing uneven.
"My dress is ruined," Tania whined, gesturing to the deep red stain marring her silver gown. "Anne has completely lost control. She slapped me twice." Her voice trembled with fury. "But you…"
The words caught in her throat as the memory of Denis, holding Anne close, about to kiss her. The image burned like acid in her mind.
Her lower lip trembled, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. "I thought you were going to put her in her place, but… You were kissing her. Why, Denis?"
She wanted to scream, to shake him, to force the truth out of him. The humiliation, the jealousy, and the bitterness twisted inside her like a knife.
