Messy Dinner

Chapter 107: Messy Dinner

There was a charged energy that no one dared to break—except Diane.

She leaned back in her chair, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, wearing the kind of smile that sent a message—you're losing, and I'm enjoying every second of it.

Victor was watching her now, not with amusement, but with the frosty coldness of a man who wasn't used to being bested.

Diane had expected this. A power play. A battle of wills. And she was winning.

Victor set his glass down, he had this icy like Alaska expression on his face.

 "You're very quick, aren't you?"

Diane smirked. "You'd be surprised how fast one has to be when people keep trying to pull them down."

Victor hummed. "A woman with a sharp tongue is a dangerous thing."

Diane tilted her head. "Only to men who don't know how to handle one."