Kira stormed out of Anna's room, her footsteps sharp against the polished floor. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but the fury in her eyes betrayed her composure.
The tray in her hands rattled with the force of her grip until—
Thud!
She slammed it down on the counter, the sound echoing through the quiet kitchen. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as she sneered, the corners of her mouth curling into something venomous.
"That bitch…" she hissed under her breath, her voice low and poisonous. "Did she really think I wouldn't understand what she just did?"
Kira's nails dug into her palms as her mind replayed Anna's smirk, her words, her calm defiance. For the first time since stepping into the Clafford mansion, Kira realized—Anna wasn't the timid, clueless wife she had assumed.
No, she was sharper. Dangerous even.
