Genevieve's smile faltered.
At the same time, she felt an invisible pressure bearing down on her.
Adeline's assistants, too, turned toward her, watching her like hawks staring at prey.
Suddenly, Genevieve did not have a good feeling about this. She had already realized that she wasn't welcome here. But why were even the assistants being antagonistic toward her?
She found it very strange. She had never done anything to offend Adeline Stark or her attendants.
So what was going on?
Genevieve resisted the urge to fidget with her fingers. She kept the same respectful smile and said, "My Lady, may we speak in private? I believe what I have to—"
Adeline interrupted her with a derisive snort.
"The audacity," she murmured.
Genevieve's smile slowly vanished.
"Tell me, girl," Adeline purred like a cat who had just caught a mouse and was playing with it.
"Does your pedigree give you the right to waltz in here and demand a private audience with me?"
