Her fingers clenched into fists as she stared out the window, her mind racing with a deadly focus. She tilted the seat back, her posture reflecting both irritation and a simmering rage.
Her gaze was icy as she muttered to herself, "I hope you're really dead, because if you're playing games with me, I'll make sure you disappear from this world. I swear it."
Diana's hatred for Esme was not just a passing resentment—it was a deep-seated animosity that had been festering since childhood. Esme had always been the golden child, excelling in academics, athletics, and every other area that Diana had been measured against. The constant comparisons and Esme's effortless achievements had fueled a burning hatred within Diana.
