Brooke reclined on her plush velvet chaise lounge, a glass of chilled champagne sparkling in her hand, because in her opinion the occasion deserved celebration. The glow from her laptop screen illuminated her face, reflecting the gleeful malice dancing in her eyes and she wished that she could see Lyse crumbled up and broken. She had waited so long to punish her and now that it was here, she could hardly believe it.
She had been replaying the disastrous press conference for the past hour, each viewing even more satisfying than the last. Everytime she played the video, there was another funnier, more humiliating angle she had not seen prior.