A petty fight

The party was in full swing, laughter and the clinking of glasses filling the air as people mingled and indulged in their conversations. Serena sipped her wine, half-listening to Damian discuss business with the some business partners , when suddenly, a woman appeared out of nowhere and threw her arms around him.

"Damian!" she squealed before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Serena raised a brow, her lips curving slightly in amusement as she watched Damian stiffen. His entire demeanor shifted into one of cold indifference as he peeled the woman off him with a single, sharp glance.

His voice was as sharp as a blade. "Who are you?"

The woman's excited expression faltered. "Damian… it's me, Rosy."

Damian's blank stare didn't waver.

Serena could practically hear the crack in Rosy's ego as the woman flushed in humiliation. "We… we dated," Rosy reminded him, forcing a small laugh.

Damian clicked his tongue, exhaling impatiently. "I don't remember."

Serena couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped her lips.

Rosy's face burned with embarrassment as she clenched her fists. "You forgot me?"

Damian barely spared her a glance. "I don't bother remembering women from my past." Then, with a dismissive wave, he turned to Serena. "This is my wife, Serena."

Rosy's forced smile barely masked her jealousy as she took in Serena's striking beauty. She had expected some fragile, naïve woman—someone easy to manipulate. But Serena… Serena was breathtaking, confident, and worst of all, she looked like she belonged by Damian's side.

"Married?" Rosy repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. "You don't invite anyone? I assume it was secret… an arrangement, maybe?"

Damian scoffed. "No, it was a grand wedding." His smirk was sharp. "You were just the only one not invited."

Serena laughed at that, the sound rich with amusement.

Rosy's jaw clenched, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. But she recovered quickly, leaning in toward Serena and whispering just loud enough for only her to hear, "Well, be careful. That man is a beast in bed." Her eyes flickered with satisfaction as she waited for Serena's reaction, expecting jealousy, insecurity—anything to make her feel superior.

But Serena simply tilted her head, an impish smirk curving her lips as she leaned in just as close. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, "I'm the beast in bed. We've already broken several beds."

Rosy's smug expression shattered instantly.

Damian, oblivious to the whispered exchange, continued his conversation with the gentleman , while Rosy burned with frustration. No woman had ever made her feel small, yet here Serena was, effortlessly putting her in her place.

But Rosy wasn't one to back down easily.

She was Larry arnault daughter. And she had a point to prove.

It started with little things.

First, she had a drink spiked, hoping to catch Serena off guard. But when Serena drank it with no reaction whatsoever, Rosy gritted her teeth.

Next, she instructed one of her so-called 'friends' to tear Serena's dress under the guise of an accident. But before it could happen, Serena subtly shifted, and instead, the woman's own dress ripped with a loud snap.

Rosy's frustration grew.

As a last desperate attempt, someone conveniently 'tripped' and spilled juice all over Serena's dress.

Serena sighed dramatically, feigning distress. "Oh dear," she drawled, flicking at the wet fabric. "How unfortunate."

Excusing herself, she made her way to the bathroom.

But the moment she entered, she felt the shift in the air.

Rosy stood there, a cruel smirk on her lips, with two of her personal bodyguards blocking the exit.

"Oh?" Serena mused, leaning against the sink. "And here I thought rich brats had better hobbies."

Rosy's smirk widened. "You're nothing, Serena. Just another pretty face that caught Damian's eye. You won't last."

Serena sighed, rolling her shoulders lazily. "Are you done?"

Rosy's smugness faltered slightly.

Before her bodyguards could react, Serena's eyes darkened, her siren magic slipping into the air like a silent predator.

In an instant, both men collapsed, unconscious.

Rosy stumbled back in horror. "W-What the—?"

Serena took slow, deliberate steps toward her, her smirk turning predatory. "You thought you could trap me? Cute."

Rosy tried to run, but Serena's hand shot out, gripping her throat. With effortless strength, she threw Rosy against the bathroom stall, the impact making the girl gasp.

Serena leaned in, her voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "You want to play dirty? Let me show you how I play."

Before Rosy could scream, Serena shoved her face into the toilet, flushing it as the girl spluttered and thrashed.

Rosy clawed at Serena's grip, but the serena held firm, letting her panic for a few moments before finally yanking her back up.

Rosy coughed violently, gasping for air. "Y-You—"

Serena's fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up so their eyes met. And then she let her magic flow—just enough to instill a deep, paralyzing fear into Rosy's core.

Rosy trembled.

"You will never mess with me again." Serena's voice was a soft purr, but the underlying threat was razor-sharp. "Because if you do…" Her nails traced a slow line down Rosy's cheek. "Next time, I won't be so gentle."

Rosy whimpered, her body frozen in terror.

Serena smirked, releasing her and stepping back. "Now, be a good little hostess and enjoy your party."

She turned on her heel, leaving Rosy shaking in the bathroom, her pride utterly shattered.

Serena wasn't just Damian's wife.

She was a queen.

And Rosy would never forget it.