A friend or a foe?

With nothing else to do, Scarlet glanced around the hall. Guests stood in small groups, chatting in twos and threes, but she remained alone. A realization that weighed on her greatly.

Her gaze flickered toward the entrance where Lucian had hurriedly followed Brandon. The urgency in his steps made it clear—something was wrong. But what? Were they arguing? Would they fight?

She sighed and turned toward a nearby couch, lowering herself onto it. Her feet ached from standing too long, and the subtle glances people kept casting her way only added to her discomfort.

A waiter approached, carrying a tray of drinks. "Do you care for a drink?" he asked politely.

Scarlet shook her head lightly. She didn't want to risk taking anything and making a fool of herself.

Just then, a young woman who had been observing her from a distance finally made her way over. The waiter, tried persuading her to have a drink since it is meant for guest.

"Excuse me," she said smoothly.

Without hesitation, she picked up a glass of wine from the tray—one different from what the waiter had initially offered—and handed it to Scarlet.

"I won't hurt you," the woman—Mirabel—assured, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Scarlet hesitated, her eyes searching Mirabel's face for any sign of deception. Finding none, she accepted the glass.

The waiter's expression darkened for a brief moment before he quickly masked it. His voice remained even, but there was an underlying sharpness as he spoke.

"Miss, wouldn't it be better to try this flavor instead?" he suggested, subtly nudging the original drink toward her.

Mirabel's smirk widened as she met his cold gaze head-on. "No need. I've known her for a while—this was never her taste", her voice tinged with conviction.

The waiter was calmly furious as he glared at the intruder Mirabel who also stared at him unflinching. The duo locked in a silent battle of wills.

Scarlet, unaware of the growing tension, stood up. "It's not worth arguing over," she said simply. "I'm fine with this."

Still, she felt uncomfortable. She may not have been deeply involved in the upper circle, but she wasn't naive.

Something about the waiter's demeanor felt off. The way his expression flickered, the tension in his stance, his persuasion....

Something was wrong with him.

Scarlet took a cautious sip of the wine, her fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. The weight of the evening events, the stares, and the whispers pressed down on her, but Mirabel —something about her felt odd.

Mirabel, elegantly composed, took a seat beside her. "You handled that well," she remarked, crossing one leg over the other.

Scarlet turned to her, brows furrowed. "Handled what?"

Mirabel tilted her head slightly, studying her. "The waiter."

Scarlet blinked, glancing back toward where the man had disappeared into the crowd. "I didn't do anything."

"Not accepting the drink he offered was a good one, it saved your life." Mirabel muttered.

A shiver ran down Scarlet's spine. She replayed the moment in her head—the subtle insistence, the flicker of frustration in the waiter's eyes when Mirabel intervened.

"You also think there was something wrong with it?" Scarlet asked, her voice quieter now.

Mirabel didn't answer immediately. Instead, she swirled the wine in her glass and took a slow sip before replying, "I think you should be careful."

Scarlet's grip on her glass tightened. "Why would someone—"

"Because," Mirabel interrupted smoothly, "you're Lucian Sterling's wife."

Scarlet's breath caught.

"You might not have said it yourself, but trust me, everyone here knows," Mirabel continued, glancing around the room.

"And that makes you a target to the ladies you have stolen their prince charming from"

Scarlet swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had spent the entire evening trying to distance herself from Lucian's name, but that didn't change the fact that her mere presence at his side had already painted a target on her back.

Mirabel leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "I don't know who's behind it, but someone clearly doesn't want you here, you know."

Scarlet forced herself to remain composed. "And you? Why are you warning me?"

Mirabel smiled, but there was something unreadable in her eyes. "Because I enjoy watching a game unfold, but I don't like seeing unfair advantages."

Scarlet exhaled slowly, setting her glass down. "And if I don't want to play this game?"

Mirabel chuckled softly. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, leaning back into the couch, "you've been playing the moment you walked into this hall."

Scarlet felt the weight of those words settle deep in her chest.

Across the room, the waiter reappeared, his expression complicated as he observed them from a distance before slipping through a side door.

Scarlet's unease grew.

Whatever was going on tonight—whatever game Mirabel was referring to —she had just stepped right into the middle of it.

"So? Are you a friend or a foe?" Scarlet asked, her voice steady, but her eyes watchful. "Because I prefer an open enemy to a hidden one. At least then, I can avoid them—or run as fast as my legs can carry me."

Mirabel threw her head back and laughed, a genuine, rich sound that echoed in the room.

At first, she had only approached Scarlet out of curiosity, intrigued by the woman connected to Lucian Sterling.

But standing beside her now, there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity, a comfort she hadn't felt in years—since she lost her closest friend.

With a smirk, Mirabel exhaled. "I think I can be anyone you want, Mrs. Sterling."

Scarlet arched a brow. "Well, good for me if you're a friend. Apart from Mario, I don't have many. Maybe you'll be another."

Mirabel's playful expression wavered for a split second before she asked, her gaze intense, "What about childhood friends?"

Scarlet hesitated, her brows knitting together. "I can't really recall anything from back then."

Something in those words made Mirabel's heart clench. She muttered under her breath, "If only she were still here… wouldn't they make quite a pair?"

She wasn't sure why, but she felt drawn to Scarlet, as though they had known each other for a lifetime.

Pushing away the sudden weight in her chest, she changed the subject. "Are your feet hurting?"

"Not much. I can cope," Scarlet replied with a small smile.

"Good," Mirabel said, standing up and offering her hand. "Then let's take a stroll. I'll subtly introduce you to some of the ladies here—especially the ones who will be your enemies." She smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Scarlet chuckled, shaking her head. "Why introduce me to an enemy? Aren't you asking for my head?"

Mirabel grinned. "Consider it an early warning system."

They both laughed as Scarlet rose to her feet and took her hand in hers, it felt almost familiar, she had done something like this.

She felt relieved, she felt comfortable in her presence. It was as though they had so much in common and surprisingly she found herself not shrinking in her presence like she does with new faces.

Lucian might have left her in the den of wolves to run after his friend but God had given her a chance of a companion to help her through the night.

She resolved to make a good run for it and make the best of this rare opportunity.

Though, she might not want this marriage, it might have been a mistake but she is certain it is not ending now.

Her parents and the loan sharks, instead of grabbling for the unknown future there "Why not be willful for once? Why not think only about herself this time?" She mused as she allowed Mirabel to lead her.