Andrea tiptoes through the dimly lit hallways of her parents' mansion, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors. The house is quiet, her parents already retired for the night. As she enters her bedroom, the opulence of her surroundings feels heavier than usual—like a golden cage. The sprawling space, with its crystal chandeliers and silk-draped bed, offers little comfort tonight. She tosses her navy blue dress onto a nearby chair, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on her shoulders.
The dinner at Christian's parents' house had not gone as planned. She had hoped her appearance would reignite some spark, but Christian's reaction had been far from welcoming. He seemed caught off guard, almost uncomfortable. And then there was Marilena—bold, assertive, and completely in control. That woman had taken the seat next to Christian and held it as though she belonged there. It grated on Andrea, though she tried not to let it show.
