Deceitful people should never wear expensive perfume; it's like covering filth with flowers.
Elizabeth thought this as she took a drag from her joint, standing casually near the edge of the buffet table.
The ballroom was alive with music and laughter, couples waltzing gracefully under the dazzling chandelier lights.
She observed the scene with a detached amusement, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
Then she saw her.
The woman from her husband's psychiatric hospital walked in through the grand oak doors, her arm looped around the frail, elderly man she claimed as her husband. But tonight, the man was more of an accessory, a brainless decoration draped over her arm.
Elizabeth's gaze swept over the woman's dress—it wasn't for her husband. Her movements, her gaze, all betrayed her true focus: a young man seated at the piano, his fingers dancing effortlessly over the keys.
Oh, interesting. Elizabeth smirked, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Let me introduce you to someone," Phil murmured, taking the joint from her hand. His breath brushed her ear as he spoke. Before she could protest, he led her toward the very couple she had been observing.
"Elizabeth, this is Sakamoto Aeri and her husband, Sakamoto Ishida," Phil said smoothly, his polite tone unwavering. "They run the Japanese branch of your father's company."
Ah. So this was about business. Networking.
"Mr. and Mrs. Sakamoto," Phil continued, "this is my wife, Elizabeth, CEO and daughter of the head of our company."
"I'm aware," Ishida said, his sharp eyes analyzing her with an unnerving intensity.
"She's not very beautiful, but I suppose brains compensate for it," Aeri said, speaking in Chinese.
Elizabeth raised a brow. It was deliberate. Aeri had chosen a language her husband didn't understand and probably thought she wouldn't understand as well, nor did most of the guests nearby.
The insult wasn't subtle, but what was worse, Aeri's eyes flicked to Phil, lingering a second too long, her intentions thinly veiled.
Disrespect. Right in front of her.
Elizabeth's smirk deepened. In fluent Japanese, her tone icy, she replied, "Does your husband know his garden is so wide that everyone's been digging there?"
The words landed like a slap. Ishida frowned deeply, his wrinkled features hardening.
Phil stifled a laugh, his arm slipping protectively around her waist. "If you'll excuse us, we have more people to meet," he said, steering Elizabeth away from the stunned couple.
But Elizabeth wasn't done. As they walked away, she added in confident, crisp Chinese, "Next time, it won't be tea. It will be worse."
She didn't need to look back to know her words had landed. The fire in Aeri's eyes was almost tangible.
Elizabeth smirked, satisfied, and walked off with Phil, his quiet laughter rumbling beside her.