Nicolas walked into the room with Aurelie and Miranda on either one of his arms. A ripple of polite applause spread through the space, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and the faint clinking of champagne glasses. The air smelled of expensive cologne, roses, and the faintest trace of fine-aged whiskey. Those who deemed themselves of high enough status sauntered over, eager to congratulate him for doing it again.
Miranda and Aurelie soaked in the attention but remained slightly behind, letting Nicolas bask in the praise he so effortlessly commanded. A low murmur of admiration floated through the crowd, punctuated by laughter that never quite reached the eyes of its speakers.
Miranda elbowed Aurelie, snapping her out of her thoughts. She turned to the other woman, raising a curious brow.
"Is it me, or does that woman have it out for you?" Miranda asked, voice barely above a whisper.
