“Countess Annie,” she said, her voice laced with feigned humility, “my father always tells me I should learn from you. If I’ve ever done anything to offend you, I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.” Her words seemed sincere, as though she truly sought reconciliation.

Annie’s gaze flickered to the drink in Lois’s hand, a scoff escaping her lips. “At least your father knows what he’s talking about.”

Lois, on the other hand, seemed to lack the insight she so desperately needed. If she had any sense, she wouldn’t have latched onto Ryanna the second she entered the room. With behavior like that, it was a wonder anyone would find her likable.

Feigning sincerity, Lois widened her eyes and bowed her head in a respectful gesture. “Of course, I hope you won’t hold any grudges, Countess Annie.” She then extended the drink toward Annie, her movements smooth and deliberate.

Annie accepted the wine, lifting her chin just enough to give her a faintly imperious air. Her eyes locked onto Lois’s, glinting with subtle mockery that seemed to dance just beneath the surface. The gesture was small but deliberate—a quiet challenge that lingered between them.

Annie took a moment to savor her cocktail, enjoying the flavors before gently setting the glass down on the counter nearby.

Her eyes turned toward Lois, studying her for a moment before she tilted her head slightly, her voice low but clear. “Do you see those two people over there?” she asked, her gaze flicking briefly toward the figures in question before returning to Lois, as if searching for something in her reaction.

Lois’s gaze drifted to the wine she was holding, her expression growing even quieter as if the sight of it had deepened her thoughts. After a moment, she gave a slow nod, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” she said, her tone respectful. “I see them.”

Annie edged closer, her breath brushing against Lois’s ear as she murmured softly, her words barely audible but laden with meaning. Lois’s eyes widened in an instant, a flash of shock rippling through her expression. She turned to Annie, her gaze now clouded with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, barely above a whisper. “Countess Annie,” she began, her words hesitant, “do we really have to do this?”

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Annie couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her tone dripping with disdain. “Coward,” she said sharply. “Is this all it takes to break you?” She studied Lois, her impatience simmering just beneath the surface. Compared to the torment Katelyn and Vincent had inflicted upon her, this moment felt almost trivial.

Lois gave a timid nod, her expression clouded with unease. She hesitated for a moment, her voice soft and uncertain as she finally replied, “Okay.” The word hung in the air, fragile and tentative, as if she were trying to convince herself as much as Annie. Her fingers fidgeted slightly, betraying the turmoil beneath her calm exterior, though she made no further protest.

Annie’s irritation flared as she glanced at Lois, her lips tightening into a thin line. She rolled her eyes again, unable to hide her exasperation. If it weren’t for the fact that Lois still held some semblance of usefulness, Annie would have dismissed her outright. She wouldn’t even bother with someone like Lois.

Lois was little more than a pawn, a tool to be used and discarded once her purpose was fulfilled. The thought lingered in Annie’s mind, cold and unyielding, as she glanced at Lois with a detached air. There was no sentiment, no attachment—only the calculated recognition of her utility. For now, Lois had a role to play, but Annie knew better than to expect anything more from her.

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