The insult landed perfectly, and Celina’s face flushed red.
Celina had thought she could easily manipulate Zarelle, could waltz in here and leave with minimal effort.
But she was sorely mistaken, completely wrong.
Zarelle was no longer the same vulnerable girl she once was, no longer someone to be pushed around.
Celina stood there in stunned silence, realizing for the first time that Zarelle had undergone a profound transformation.
She wasn’t the helpless “orphan” who had to bow down to the Ashmoors anymore, who’d accepted every insult with downcast eyes.
Now, as the daughter of the prestigious Feymeres, she held a higher status than Celina herself.
The power dynamic had completely reversed.
Refusing to lose face, Celina mustered her courage and said, “Zarelle, I
