The moment Lorenzo called for a break, Marisol was on Elara like a hawk that had spotted its prey. She stormed over, heels clacking with each determined step, her jaw set as she looked ready to rip into Elara. Amara barely had a chance to sigh before Marisol began her scolding.
"Elara," Marisol said, her voice low and deadly calm a calm that was usually a precursor to an explosion. "I'm not sure if I've made myself clear enough, but you need to stop looking like you're about to attack every woman within ten feet of Amara. We are trying to keep this relationship a secret, remember?"
Elara's eyes flashed, but she kept her mouth shut, clearly fighting back a retort. Amara leaned back against a prop column, thoroughly entertained. Marisol was in full lecture mode, waving her hands as she spoke, her tone growing increasingly exasperated.
