The two women froze mid-fight and turned toward the dimly lit corner, where a woman sat elegantly on an antique chair.
Her gaze was sharp and cold, as if they were nothing more than prey waiting to be devoured.
"Who are you?" Mrs. Smith asked, eyeing her with caution.
Elena tilted her head slightly.
"I said I'm just here to watch the show. It's quite entertaining, especially when you're slapping each other like a shrew."
"Show yourself! How did you get in here? Are you a thief?" Mrs. Smith barked, her voice rising in panic.
"So many questions," Elena replied coldly.
Without another word, she pulled out her whip and cracked it toward them.
"Arghh! Thief! What are you doing?!" Mrs. Smith screamed in pain as the lash struck her shoulder, leaving a stinging red mark.
Elena didn't respond.
She kept hitting them, each strike making them fall to the ground.
Her whip cracked sharply, and the pain made them twist in agony.
