With slow, measured, and deliberate steps, Jessica closed the door behind her gently as she stepped into the brightly lit hallway. Her eyes scanned both ends of the corridor. As expected—no sign of Tricia. A faint knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Her expression remained indifferent as she adjusted the hem of her dress with casual elegance and headed toward one direction—the restroom.
Turning toward the restroom, she spotted Tricia rushing into one of the ladies’ rooms, her face painted in feigned distress. Jessica’s smile deepened. She didn’t need confirmation.
The scene that had just unfolded inside wasn’t surprising—Tricia’s melodramatic exit, her feigned tears, the carefully timed gasp that had drawn sympathetic glances is just a means of painting her the villain.
This she had expected from her following her attitude towards her since she arrived with Davis.
Years of experience dealing with schemers had taught her this game well and if Tricia is setting up this evening for a match, then she doesn’t mind accompanying her.
She had seen enough scheming women in her life to know that the act was far from over. It never was. Women like Tracia never left without striking twice.
She reached the restroom, her phone in hand, and pushed the slightly ajar door to open wider. Her expression was serene, indifferent. But her entrance was intentional.
Inside, the steady sound of water running echoed off the marble tiles. As Jessica stepped in, Tricia’s hand paused mid-motion over the running tap.
Her eyes met Jessica’s reflection through the mirror. The moment stretched between them. A deep scowl twisted Tracia’s face, embarrassment and fury flooding her cheeks with color.
She spun around sharply, hands clenched into trembling fists. "What are you doing here?" she snapped her voice sharp and acidic.
Jessica stepped in fully, letting the door remain wide open as she leaned her frame on the wall beside the door.
She raised her brow slightly, a smirk playing across her lips. "Why? I should be asking you that. You seemed a little too dramatic back there. I was worried. Or were you hoping I wouldn’t follow the trail of your crocodile tears?" Her voice dripped with mock concern. "Are you alright?"
Tricia turned off the tap and took a step closer to Jessica, the distance between them shrinking as tension swirled like a storm between two empresses in a battlefield of pride. Her voice dropped, filled with venom.
Her expression was icy, a stark contrast to her earlier sweetness during the toast. She didn’t believe that in her territory she would be intimidated.
"Jessica," she sneered, voice laced with venom. "Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Throwing yourself at a man like that? Do you even deserve him?"
Jessica tilted her head. Jessica blinked slowly, her smirk deepening as she regarded Tricia with the amusement one reserved for a delusional child.
She folded her arms, calm, collected. "But just to clarify... which man are we talking about? Because I’m fairly certain the man who introduced me earlier used the term wife. Were you not present when he said it? Or is comprehension not your strong suit?"
Tricia’s nostrils flared, her jaw tightening. Her fists clenched harder, nails digging into her palm. "Don’t act smart, Jessica. Calling him your husband?" "Ridiculous" she scoffed.
"Ridiculous?" Jessica questioned with her head, one brow arching in disbelief. Did she not understand English? Or reality? Jessica sighed, a flicker of pity in her gaze.
Tricia’s fists clenched. Seeing her smugness she wanted to strike her—desperately—but dared not risk Davis’s disapproval. "You don’t deserve him," she spat.
Jessica raised her brow in curiosity, she had to find out how undeserving she is to Davis. "Are you serious? Did he complain to you?" She asked coldly.
"Stop pretending, you know exactly what I mean. You flirted with Luke shamelessly earlier. Do you think Davis won’t notice? Or are you hoping he’ll tolerate your disgusting behavior like a fool? How long do you think this game of yours will last?"
Jessica let out a soft sigh, almost as though she pitied her.
"Tricia," she said quietly, her voice suddenly carrying a dangerous edge. "You keep calling it a game—but who’s really playing here? You, who stormed off just to create a scene? Or me, standing exactly where I belong?"
Tricia stepped even closer, her voice rising in pitch. "Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. You fooled Alex, you charmed Lucas, but Luke? He’s not blind. He’ll see right through you. It is just a matter of time."
Jessica’s smile widened, slow and taunting. "Let him. I don’t care." Her tone was final. Sharp.
"But Tricia, I’d suggest you think twice before dragging my name through the mud again," Jessica said, her voice laced with warning. "You don’t know what I’m capable of. Don’t tempt me."
She turned, with a sharp pivot, and stepped into the hallway. She didn’t want to concern herself with this lady’s madness.
She had only followed her out because she was sure she had something to say to her, and now it seemed to have been exhausted, and she wouldn’t spend another minute because Davis might come looking for her any minute.
That’s when Tricia lunged.
"Jessica, wait!" she cried, grabbing her wrist tightly. "Please—I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry... please forgive me."
Her fingers dug in with deliberate pressure, sharp nails cutting into Jessica’s skin painfully.



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