Chapter Forty-One: The Spark and the Flame
"What a shitty night…"
All the chandeliers above Isabelle's head sparkled like tiny stars, but she barely noticed them.
"Fucking idiot! I swear, once I get rid of you…it will be over for you!"
All she could smell in this place was perfume, wine, and gossip.
She clicked her feet to the ground aggressively and unevenly as she walked back toward the drink table, another half-empty glass of champagne in her hand.
Her cheeks were warm and turned pink. As if Isabelle wasn't requiring a blush anymore. Her lips tingled, but the alcohol had softened her edges.
Isabelle didn't care anymore about the cameras or the mister perfect-prince Reign. Not even about the clear gossip that followed her every step.
She had already danced with Benjamin. Talked to a CEO. Laughed at a stranger's joke.
And now, she was leaning too close to a young investor who looked like he'd just inherited his father's company and had no idea what to do with it.
