Arianne sneered. “You confused, little thing. I wouldn’t be daft enough to anger the mother of the man I like if I were you, girl. I would especially not say anything as low IQ as that, too. Let me be completely frank with you: no one who bears the surname of Leigh will ever get the better of me, the last one failed. Hard. I can guarantee that you’ll leave us in the span of three days. If I lose, you can stay here forever. Wanna bet? I dare you.”
She left her threat hanging at that and turned her wheelchair away, leaving the scorned young woman behind.
Rage came out of Raven as waves of quakes all over her body. She was lurching close to hyperventilation, but right before it became impossible to stop, she came around and battled herself to calm down. She had a feeling that even if she fainted right there and then, no one would discover her, would they?
Now that Arianne and Mark had returned, the Tremont Estate had recovered its vivacity and life. It had become merry.
And Raven Leigh had no part in it.
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