Lila
Vanessa recovered first, straightening and flipping her hair over one shoulder like we were just old friends caught mid-conversation.
“Lord Asher,” she cooed, lips curling into what I’m sure the thought was meant to be inviting. “You’re just in time. We were admiring Elena’s… fashion statement.”
His eyes didn’t even flick to her. “Is that what you call attempted murder-by-merlot?”
The girls behind her tittered, but it was uncertain now. Because Asher wasn’t smiling. Not at all.
He moved past them, the crowd parting for him like water. “You alright, Lucky?” he asked, voice pitched low as he stepped into my space.
I forced a breath. “Peachy.”
His eyes dropped to the ruined bodice of my dress. “If this is what these ladies call haute couture, I’m glad to be out of fashion.”
A wea
