Aria stared at the gilded gate like it had personally insulted her.
Of all the places she had expected to end up today, brunch with Xander's mother wasn't on her bingo card. Yet here she was. Lip gloss on, fake smile locked and loaded, walking into enemy territory in heels that pinched.
A butler opened the front door like she was royalty. More like a sacrificial offering.
"Madam Quinn is expecting you," he said with a bow that was way too dramatic.
Of course she was.
The courtyard was a scene straight out of a luxury perfume ad—perfect hedges, perfect pastries, perfect women with snake venom in their smiles. Old money, new noses.
"Darling," crooned a voice that made her spine stiffen. "You look alive. What a pleasant surprise."
Aria turned.
Xander's mother, Madeline Quinn. The woman looked like she'd eaten pearls for breakfast and regretted none of them. Elegant. Icy. Dangerous in a way only women who'd survived five boardroom coups and three divorces could be.
"I try," Aria said with a sweet smile. "After dying briefly, I figured I should make an effort."
That earned a blink from one of the ladies sipping champagne. Another stifled a laugh behind a manicured hand.
They sat.
Aria took the edge seat. Safer that way. Never have your back to the enemy—or your mother-in-law.
"Rumor has it Xander's been spending nights at home," one woman said, eyes glittering like a gossip gremlin. "Things must be warming up in the Quinn mansion."
Aria took a slow sip of tea.
"They are," she said smoothly. "You should visit sometime. Though I doubt you'd survive the heat."
A pause. Long enough to make someone sweat. Not Aria. She smiled like a knife.
Madeline's lips twitched. Was that… amusement? Or a warning?
Hard to tell.
The conversation shifted, but the air stayed sharp. Every word felt like a test she hadn't studied for. Every bite of croissant a potential landmine.
But Aria held her own.
And when she stood to leave, head high, smile still sharp?
She knew she'd won this round.
Barely.