The celebration was still ongoing, and Elena couldn't leave.
Vivian and Selena remained inside, but after everything that had happened, they were now socially exiled in one of the lounges.
It was a harsher punishment than being taken away by the police—being forced to sit and endure the judgmental stares and whispers.
They were like fish in a bowl, on constant display, unable to escape.
To walk out now would be to admit defeat.
Elena swirled the wine in her glass, casting a sidelong glance in their direction.
Sophia snorted, "Those two are so shameless, I can't believe they haven't run off already. If I were in their shoes, I'd be digging a hole to hide in."
"They want to leave," Elena said coolly. "They just can't."
Selena had managed to be Eleanor Brook's mistress for so many years—surely she wasn't without tricks of her own.
As they chatted, Theodore walked over. "Elena," he said calmly.
Theodore wore a fatherly smile as he approached.
