Angel’s threat

"Wow, look at this huge bouquet of flowers! Who is it for?!" one of the courtesans squealed as the oversized arrangement was carefully rolled into the main hallway.

"I don't know too," another replied, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Did anyone get a new companion recently?"

"No! Only Blue—"

"She's not new," someone snapped quickly.

"Ask if it's going to the noble's hall then!"

"Hey!" Violet called out, waving at the delivery person. "Where are you taking that?"

"They said we should deliver it to the penthouse," he replied casually.

"Penthouse?" several voices echoed in unison.

"Penthouse?!" Violet blinked twice, her mouth dropping open. "Isn't that ridiculous? No one lives there—no one's even allowed to go up there!"

"Someone lives there now."

"What?!" they all screamed at the same time.

"Pinch me, Jade!" Violet cried.

Jade leaned in and gave her a sharp pinch. "Ow! That hurts!" she yelped, rubbing her arm. "Who the hell got the penthouse among the courtesans?!"

"Blue!" another courtesan blurted.

"Blue? Who's Blue?"

"The flower of the courtesan house, idiot!"

"Blue got the penthouse?! That's impossible! Only the favored courtesan can live there—and I heard no one's ever even qualified before!"

"This can't be happening," someone muttered, crossing her arms in disbelief. "She probably knows the owner of the courtesan house."

"I don't wanna believe that bullshit!"

"Violet, let's go. Our class starts in five minutes."

"Oh, true! Let's go!"

Meanwhile, Freya was inside the penthouse, practically glowing with joy as she caressed the petals. "The flowers are beautiful!" she whispered, overwhelmed.

"Yeah," Harper—Blue—smiled, watching the display calmly. "I only gave Quincy a little tease and he's doing so much already."

Freya laughed. "He's definitely doing that. I can't believe he moved you up here!"

"Me neither."

"But how come he even has access to the penthouse? I heard only the owner—"

"He is the owner," Harper said, with a mischievous glint.

Freya's jaw dropped. "What? He's the owner of the courtesan house?"

"Sure," Harper replied with a wink. "Let's get to class. We've got something big to do this evening."

In class, Harper sat down at her usual spot, ignoring the dozens of eyes peeking over shoulders and across the room. Angel sat stiffly nearby, face contorted in quiet fury.

As soon as the professor left the room, a group of courtesans rushed to Harper's desk like moths to flame.

"Blue, did you move into the penthouse?!" someone gasped.

"Sure," Harper said with a calm nod.

"I heard only the owner can let someone live there! Did you meet him?"

"No, I didn't," she said, tilting her head playfully.

"Then how come?"

"Well, I don't know either. They said he likes me very very much and gave me the penthouse."

"That's ridiculous! He likes you very very much and just—gives you the penthouse?!"

"Yes," Harper said, shrugging. "It just happens that way."

"Can we visit?!"

"Sure! Let's go." She stood up with a smirk. A wave of courtesans followed, whispering excitedly as they piled into the elevator.

Angel, still sitting stiffly, clenched her book before throwing it aside and trailing behind silently.

When they entered the penthouse and the door opened with Harper's fingerprint, a collective gasp echoed.

"Wow!" someone cried. "This place is huge—what the fuck?!**"

"I can't believe only one courtesan gets to live here! This can hold, like, ten of us!"

"You are such a lucky bitch," another laughed, twirling in the hallway.

As Harper entertained the others, Angel moved in, her eyes blazing with silent rage. She grabbed Harper's wrist tightly.

"What?" Harper asked coolly.

"How did you get the penthouse, Blue?!"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you do something dirty behind Quincy's back? The owner can't possibly be interested in a trash like you."

Harper blinked—once. Her expression hardened, then twisted into a subtle smile.

"Me? Trash?"

"Yes," Angel spat. "You're trash. What makes you think you're better than the rest of us? You barely spent a year as a courtesan, and now you're in a place Madam Fransisca can't even enter."

Harper leaned in close, lips brushing Angel's ear as she whispered coldly, "Maybe you should try harder with your investigation and see why I got the penthouse."

She stepped back with a taunting smile and yanked her hand away.

"I am the moment, Angel. Get that into your skull."

Angel's eyes widened with rage. "I'm going to kill you. I'll definitely kill you, no matter what!"

"You won't be able to," Harper said calmly.

"Just watch me!"

"No. You watch me."

Angel stomped out of the penthouse, slamming the elevator button in a fury.

"Angel is so spiteful," one of the courtesans muttered. "Why can't she just be happy for someone else, for once?"

"She's so hateful. What the hell…"

"It's fine, ladies," Harper said smoothly. "Let's all prepare for the picnic this evening."

"I suddenly don't feel like going anymore," someone whispered. "What if Angel poisons our food or something? She said she'd kill you, Blue."

"Don't worry," another said. "If she harms a courtesan, she'll regret it."

"Yeah, true. She wouldn't dare."

"Let's go get ready. We have to attend her hosting—even if her attitude stinks."

They left one by one, still buzzing with excitement and tension. Harper stepped back inside and changed her dress, fixing her hair neatly in the mirror.

"Did you get it?" she asked when Freya returned.

"Yes, I did," Freya said, placing a small glass jar on the table.

Harper opened the lid gently. "Get me some water."

Freya returned with a small glass. Harper dipped her finger in, pressing it to the white powder, then rubbed her fingers together until it absorbed into her skin.

"Take it back."

Freya nodded and picked up the glass again.

"Make sure you drop it in Angel's luggage when we get to the park," Harper said in a low voice.

"Do you really have to do this, Blue? It's… dangerous."

"I have no other way," Harper said firmly. "Angel isn't an easy competitor. If I don't go all the way, I won't get rid of her. And right now, she's Quincy's biggest threat in the courtesan house. She has to go."

"I hope this goes well," Freya whispered, looking troubled.

"It will," Harper replied coldly, her gaze steady. "Definitely."