Ashley caught Catherine's smirk, and it only made the fury boil hotter.
She was so happy to get into Winthorp. And what did she find here?
While she herself was stranded in the back rows, unnoticed, unserved, invisible, Catherine was among the elites, sipping premium wine and gliding across the floor with the most eligible men in the room.
How was that allowed?
"Seducing?" Catherine chuckled softly. "I accepted the dances I was invited to. If that's what you call seduction, we clearly have very different definitions of basic social skills."
Ashley scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Preston. Just because you slept your way in here—wearing Laurent Noir, looking all perfect—doesn't mean you're better than me."
Catherine calmly wiped her hands with a towel, then dropped it into the trash.
"Thank you," she said lightly.
Wasn't that a compliment?
Ashley froze.
