Camila's POV
After Nathaniel's stern warning, the tension at the table seemed to ease just enough for everyone to start eating again. But I could feel Sasha's eyes on me—burning, scrutinizing, plotting.
As the meal continued, Isabelle whispered something into Sasha's ear, and they both shared a sly, conspiratorial look. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing.
Cassie leaned toward me, whispering softly, "Don't let her get to you, my lady."
But my thoughts were elsewhere—spinning, connecting fragments of the past. Why was Sasha so determined to provoke me? It felt more than just spite—it was purposeful, calculated.
