"Nicolas has told me so much about you," the woman said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You're even more beautiful than he described."
Hazel's lips curved into a cool, measured smile. "I'm sure he did."
The tension between them was thick.
The woman's eyes flickered with something sharp and calculating, but she kept her smile in place. Her hand rested lightly on Nicolas's arm, her fingers curling into the fabric of his suit like she was claiming him.
Nicolas's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Let me introduce you to the others. There are some people I'd like you to meet."
He gestured toward the room, his gaze fixed on Hazel, watching her reaction closely. He wanted to see her squirm, to see her uncomfortable, to see her lose that calm composure while he stood beside another woman, a woman more beautiful than her, with skin a hundred times better than hers. He wanted to make her feel small, insignificant, replaceable.
