Quintessa's crisp and melodious voice cut through the chatter of the room, leading people all around to turn their heads, including those of the Young family.
Upon entering, Miranda had her eyes dart around in search of Jerome, but shuddered by Quintessa's voice, she whirled around almost reflexively.
All Miranda could see was Quintessa standing close to Jerome, looking the picture of grace and femininity. She had her smile bloom like spring flowers as she clung to Jerome's arm, as if she was his bona fide girlfriend, while Jerome did not, did not, push her away.
As Miranda laid eyes on Quintessa in that moment, it felt like the world went silent, leaving behind a void filled only with rising anger and spite. She felt a visceral urge to tear Quintessa's face to shreds and to erase her from existence forever.
Miranda's hatred for Quintessa ran deep, too deep to be uprooted.
She cherished Jerome so much that she had once tried to end her own life for him; the scar on her wrist was a permanent reminder of her despair.
And now here was Quintessa, brazenly holding onto the man Miranda loved. In an instant, she felt rational thought abandon her, leaving only a burning hatred.
Miranda's eyes were red with fury as she muttered under her breath, "Homewrecker, bitch, tramp, I'll kill you, I swear I'll kill you."
Her mind went blank, save for a single thought: Quintessa must die, die, die.
Lilian and Sean also noticed Quintessa's arrival, and after their initial shock, they understood all too well: Quintessa meant trouble.
She had vowed three years ago to return and disrupt their peace, and now it seemed she was ready to make good on that promise.
Although they both yearned to destroy Quintessa on the spot, they knew they had to keep up appearances of family harmony and warmth in front of others, especially at this kind of social event.
They quickly grabbed Miranda, who was on the verge of lunging at Quintessa.
"Miranda, keep your cool, we're at the Lott family's reception!" Sean hissed.
"Mom, I can't be calm, I just can't." Miranda pleaded.
"I know, darling, I know. Mom's here, and I'll help you deal with that little tart, but not now, not here."
The Youngs were barely clinging to their status; their company, just a shell of its former self, survived in name only as it had not yet declared bankruptcy. They depended on the goodwill of the Lotts and couldn' afford to cause a scene at their event, lest they alienate their benefactors entirely.
"But I can't stand it." Miranda's twin obsessions, her love for Jerome and her hatred for Quintessa, were tearing at her soul. How could she bear to see the woman she loathed holding the man she loved? Gone was Miranda's composed demeanor; her beautifully made-up face was now twisted with hatred and jealousy. She charged forward like a mad dog, "Quintessa, you slut, why do you always have to compete with me?"
Miranda hadn't even reached her when she raised her hand to strike, but Quintessa, being all ready, caught Miranda's wrist in a firm grip.
Miranda, pampered and delicate, was no match for Quintessa, who had spent the past three years working hard jobs. All of Miranda's rage and loathing amounted to nothing more than a paper tiger in Quintessa's presence.
"Let go of me, you whore." Miranda snarled.
Quintessa replied with a smile, "Sis, temper, temper. Look, your future in-laws are watching. If you ruin this reception, you can kiss your chances with the Lotts goodbye. Consider this a friendly warning!"
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