As the two of them strolled through the vineyard, a strange, bitter wave of nostalgia washed over Anna, stirring mories she thought she had buried long ago.
Once upon a ti, they had walked like this too—side by side, confiding in one another, sharing laughter, secrets, and sorrows. Back when Anna still believed that Marienne was soone she could trust. Soone who wouldn’t eventually twist those shared secrets into weapons.
Now, it all felt like a scene from a play they’d perford before. Only this ti, Anna wasn’t the naive girl who mistook theatrics for sincerity. She knew better than to let Marienne anywhere near the parts of her life that still mattered.
"You know," Marienne chirped, clasping her hands together like a child with a clever idea, "we should plan a dinner together. Sowhere really nice."
"The Golden Room, perhaps?" Anna offered sweetly, her tone light, but her smile laced with sothing sharper beneath the surface.
Marienne visibly flinched. It was obvious that she instantly thought about the day she had sent Sebastian there for his eting with Susanne. She recovered quickly, slipping back into her sugary charm.
"Oh, please," she waved her hand dismissively, "that place has beco a glorified diner—anyone can get a reservation now."
Anna chuckled. The jab was subtle, but unmistakable—a dig at Susanne’s public eting with Sebastian. She nodded, silently signaling that perhaps she, too, no longer held the Golden Room in such esteem.
"Then what place would you suggest?" Anna tilted her head slightly, one brow arching in polite curiosity.
Marienne’s gaze flickered with sothing unreadable before she replied, her voice soft and unblinking. "How about your mansion, Chloe?" she said, fluttering her lashes as if the request was as innocent as a complint.
What? Anna asked inwardly, her eyes widening in disbelief. Is she serious? Is she really that delusional—to think I’d invite her to my ho just like that?
A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she fought back the urge to burst into laughter. I see. Neither of you have changed one bit.
"Well," Anna began, quickly searching for a graceful excuse, "I’m currently staying at my boyfriend’s mansion, so I’m not sure that can be arranged, since—"
"That’s right!" Marienne’s eyes lit up again, practically sparkling. "William Stark is your boyfriend, right? Oh, I was shocked when I found out! You are so lucky!"
Before Anna could respond, Marienne grabbed both of her hands and enclosed them tightly between her own, eyes wide with exaggerated enthusiasm. "That’s no problem at all! You can invite Mr. Stark too, and the three of us can have a lovely dinner together!"
Aha, Anna thought, her brows knitting into a faint frown. So that’s what you’re really after. You want to get closer to William—and you’re planning to use to do it. How predictably conniving of you, Marienne.
Her smile tightened as she readied herself to burst the other woman’s carefully inflated fantasy.
Anna had just parted her lips to reply when a voice suddenly called out to her.
"Ms. Dumas!"
She turned toward the sound, slightly alard by the urgency in the waiter’s voice.
"What is it?" she asked, her tone sharpening slightly as she took in the man’s concerned expression.
"I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am," the waiter said, shifting anxiously on his feet, "but there’s a drunk guest at the wine-tasting area."
Anna raised a brow. "So? You know the protocol—call his driver and make sure he gets ho safely."
"Yes, well, we were planning to," the waiter admitted, offering her a sheepish look and a heavy sigh before continuing, "but he’s refusing to leave until he says goodbye to you."
"Excuse ?" Anna’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Who is this gentleman?"
"Mr. Constantine Greenfield."
Anna let out a groan, pressing her fingers to her temples as a sudden headache began to form. Of course it’s him.
Forcing a polite smile onto her face, she turned back to Marienne. "Will you excuse ? I need to take care of this before it turns into a full-blown disaster."
"Of course! Don’t worry about —I’ll just stroll around the vineyard a bit longer. I do hope you’ll co find later so we can continue our lovely little chat."
"Absolutely," Anna said with a graceful nod before gesturing for the waiter to lead the way.
I can’t believe a man as seemingly respectable as Constantine is creating such a childish scene, she scowled inwardly. n who can’t handle their liquor are simply insufferable.
***
Luckily for Anna, the little incident was resolved rather quickly—thanks to Gabriel’s tily assistance. Constantine Greenfield had been gently soothed and handed off to his driver, who promised to call the venue later to confirm that Mr. Greenfield had made it ho safely.
"Thanks, Gab. I owe you one," Anna sighed, taking a generous sip of wine in an effort to calm her rattled nerves.
"It’s fine," Gabriel said with a light pat on her shoulder. "As long as nobody throws a punch, we’re still keeping things classy."
They both chuckled, and Anna placed her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter.
"I need to head back to the garden," she said. "I... left sothing there."
"Want so company?"
"No, thank you," Anna replied with a shake of her head. "It won’t take long."
But as she made her way back toward the garden, an odd feeling settled in her chest—unease, quiet but persistent.
It hadn’t taken her that long to deal with Constantine, and she was fairly certain Marienne would still be there, waiting to resu their overly sweet conversation. Yet, no matter how long Anna walked or how carefully she scanned the area, Marienne was nowhere to be seen.
Then, just as she rounded the final row of grapevines, a sharp female voice sliced through the stillness.
"Well, look at you... Enjoying your little party, bitch?"
Anna froze mid-step, her palms instinctively curling into fists. Susanne?
"And what the fuck are you doing here?"
A second voice answered—this one just as familiar. Anna flinched, instinctively ducking behind the tall hedge lining the vineyard path.
There, in the shade of the grapevines, were two won she never expected to see together tonight: Susanne Hyde and Marienne Rochester.
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