I looked at her and suddenly started laughing. Isabella’s anger flared, and she nearly pointed her finger right in my face.
"What are you laughing at?! Juliana! You think this is funny, don't you?! Let me tell you, everything—everything—will be mine! You're nothing but worthless trash!"
She probably didn’t even notice that the hem of her designer dress was already stained, and her custom heels were caked in mud.
But what mattered most was the look in her eyes—beneath all that arrogance, I could see fear and jealousy.
"Only a fraud needs to keep repeating to herself that she's the real thing. Isabella, are you scared people will finally remember that you're the imposter here?"
Her face twisted in fury. She raised her hand high, ready to slap me, but I caught her wrist before she could.
