CHAPTER 18
EVA’S POV
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I see Aria clicking on her 1*******m from her phone, going to Stella Newton’s official account and tapping on her profile. In Stella’s recent post, the latter is showing how she is creating her latest dress which to my utter horror, what Aria is currently
wearing.
The ladies who are gathered around us gasp as they see the video. I start to hear them say all kind of things.
“Wow! She’s so lucky to get her dress made from Stella Newton,”
“Do you even know how difficult it is to even get an appointment from her boutique?
“I tried to get her to design my dress for this event, but I was on the waiting list,”
As I watch Aria strut in her Stella Newton dress, a surge of rage flooded my senses, burning hotter with every step she takes. How dare she flaunt her undeserved privilege? The sight of her confidence and pride only fuels the fire within me, igniting a primal urge to lash out.
Her smirk, so smug and self–assured, taunts me like a red rag to a bull. I clench my fists, feeling the sharp edges of my nails digging into my palms. The image of sinking those claws into her flawless skin, tearing away that façade of superiority. consumed my thoughts like a relentless inferno.
My mind races with violent fantasies, each more gruesome than the last. I imagine the satisfaction of seeing her pretty face contort in pain, her arrogance shattered by the reality of her mortality. The urge to act is overwhelming, a priinal instinct urging me to unleash my fury upon her.
But as much as I long to lash out, to silence her with my own hands, I remain frozen, trapped in a silent battle between reason
and rage. The consequences of my actions loom large, a daunting barrier between impulse and reality.
In that moment, words fail me. All I can do is seethe in silence, my anger simmering beneath the surface like a dormant volcano,
waiting for the perfect moment to erupt.
“Next time, before you insult someone publicly, do some research.”
The other ladies seem to be liking her and they just look at me and back at each other, giggling. Aria turns her back and leaves,
chuckling.
I remain in a corner, knowing that no one will speak to me for having tried creating a scene at the event. I go to the bar for a drink.
I order a Daiquiri cocktail. I see that bitch afar, enjoying the limelight and I want to throw something at her.
“Hey… Don’t be disheartened,” a familiar voice can be heard next to me.
As I turn, I see Sophia. She’s so much better than that Arla! I wish my brother had married her instead of Aira!
“I’ve seen and heard everything, dear. Just don’t worry. I’m with you.”
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Sophia’s presence is enough to make me calm down. In the past, we have both schemed to bring this lowly human down and
tonight we shall bury her.
“Ah! I’m already so pissed off with this bitch! Why did she even come into our life? I wonder who is fucking her like this for her to
be able to afford such luxuries!”
“With regards to the dress, I don’t think that she has bought it or gotten it as a gift.”
“How can be so sure about that?”
“Think about it. How can she afford Stella Newton in just a week of parting from Adam? Don’t tell me that you believe it’s really a gift from Stella Newton!”
What Sophia says really makes sense.
dam has not left any penny in her account and knowing Aria, she can’t afford such an expensive designer. Maybe she only borrow this dress from Stella?
“She must have thought about snaring a rich man at the party, hence she borrowed the dress somehow. Stella is known to be generous to beggars sometimes…”
We all know that Aria has always been after rich guys. Isn’t it how she trapped my brother? She’s only doing the same thing now.
“Right… So, it means that she will need to return this dress.”
Sophia and I both look at each other. Being friends for long, we could read each other’s minds.
“Should we teach her a lesson then?”
“Of course! Since she will need to return that dress to Stella Newton, it would be awful if something happens to this beautiful
dress.”
Just then, I see a waitress walkes by with a tray of wine. I immediately takes one from the tray, smiling as I think about what I’m
about to do.
“But, her dress is black!” I remind her.
“It will still get stained and damage the fabric. Just trust me.”
As the wine cascades onto Aria’s dress, I feel a rush of satisfaction mingled with uncertainty. The act is impulsive, born of anger and envy, but now doubts gnaws at me. Is this the right move? Will it only make things worse?
Seeing Aria’s shocked expression stirred conflicting emotions within me. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a spark of defiance flickers. I
have taken a stand, consequences be damned. But as the tension lingers, I brace myself for whatever repercussions lie ahead.
Instead, she says with a smile, “Oh, you clumsy Eva! I see this dress has been haunting you too much!”
Sophia instantly says, smirking, “Aren’t you mad? Don’t you need to return this dress to Stella Newton? Don’t you know that she hates her dresses getting spoilt?”
To our dismay, Aria remains calm and replies, “Why would I want to return a dress which has been gifted to me?”
