‘What can I do?’

The thought twisted slowly inside

Guivenere’s mind, like a thorn buried beneath soft flesh.

‘I am beautiful too.’

Her gaze drifted across the room.

‘I can be whatever you want me to be.’

Across the hall stood Cleopatra and Calvin, their figures framed by quiet conversation and effortless familiarity.

‘I'm also good in bed.’

Her fingers tightened faintly at her side.

‘Why won’t you even spare me a single glance?’

“That Joss of a man seems rather fond of you,” Calvin said suddenly, his tone light, almost teasing.

Cleopatra blinked. “What? No. He has a girlfriend.”

“Oh, really?” He pouted slightly, nodding his head in mock...