Stefanie's lips curved higher. She absently touched the pendant necklace resting against her chest.
Every word around her struck like a hammer against Venice's heart.
Spotting her, Stefanie waved sweetly. "Venice, you're here!"
"My friends were just craving some coffee. Would you mind making a few cups for us?"
Venice's lips parted, ready to refuse—but Stefanie's fingers brushed the pendant again, quietly threatening her.
Venice's hand tightened at her side. Then she nodded silently.
The moment Kevin arrived at the villa, his phone wouldn't stop ringing. He had no choice but to lock himself in a room to attend an urgent conference call with his business partners.
The second he was gone, Stefanie and her group of pampered friends became even more brazen.
They found every excuse imaginable to make Venice run errands—mostly to keep brewing coffee for them.
By the third round up and down the villa, the old wound on her leg began to throb again. Still, Venice gritted her teeth and made a fourth pot, carefully adjusting the beans and the water temperature to suit Stefanie's preferences.
But after a single sip, Stefanie's brows furrowed in disdain.