The tension from the unexpected dinner interruption had faded by the time the Rolls-Royce pulled up to the Lyselle estate. The night air was crisp, the city lights stretching far beyond their gated world of wealth and influence.
As soon as they stepped inside, Helena dramatically flopped onto the nearest velvet chaise lounge, one hand over her forehead.
"I have never been so exhausted by a conversation in my life," she sighed.
Amara raised an eyebrow, kicking off her designer heels. "Mother, that's a lie, and we both know it."
Helena waved her off. "Fine. But it was still dreadful." Then, turning to Elara with a bright smile, she said, "You were magnificent, dear. Daughter-in-law indeed."
Elara, who had been sipping from a glass of water one of the house staff had handed her, nearly choked. "Helena—"
Helena gasped, holding a hand to her heart. "Oh, did I say that out loud? My deepest apologies." She winked at Amara. "You've trained her well."