Despite the favor he’d shown her and the perfect opportunity to get closer, she maintained her distance, carrying herself with poise and restraint. And yet, in front of the other socialites, she radiated confidence and elegance, holding herself like a true aristocrat.
Because of this, Alexandre found himself increasingly drawn to her—like a moth to a me. His subtle gestures could easily be interpreted as him actively courting Hera, openly showing his interest. It was, perhaps, the first time Alexandre had ever shown such attention to a woman, and that alone sparked curiosity.
Those around them, especially the women, grew intrigued by Hera—the woman who managed to stir something in the famously aloof and stone-hearted Alexandre. Some approached her under the guise of civility, raising their sses in a toast, but their true intentions were to belittle and humiliate her. One such socialite walked over, having noticed the way Alexandre was looking at Hera, clearly seeing her as a threat.
"Alexandre! Hello! Happy 24th birthday!" the woman said with a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Uncle couldn’t make it due to his busy schedule, but let his future daughter-inw raise a toast in his ce." Her voice was sweet, but her intentions were clear—she was eager to assert her im over Alexandre in front of Hera.
This was exactly the kind of behavior that made Alexandre avoid getting close to women. She was notorious for acting like a rabid dog whenever he so much as showed mild interest in someone else. Tonight, she was being civil, but her arrival was a subtle territorial warning to Hera, masked as a polite gesture.
After offering her toast to Alexandre, she quickly turned her gaze toward Hera. "And who is this stunning woman with you?" she asked, her eyes sweeping over Hera from head to toe, one brow arched in poorly concealed judgment.
Hera remainedposed, taking a slow sip of her champagne, unfazed by the scrutiny.
"Where did you pick up someone like her?" the woman added smoothly, her toneced with condescension—barely veiled implication that Hera was nothing more than a low-ss escort.
Alexandre’s expression darkened instantly at the girl’s veiled insult. "Mindy—!"
Before he could raise his voice, Hera gently ced a hand on his arm. The simple touch was light, almost casual, but it sent an unexpected shiver down Alexandre’s spine. His stomach flipped in a way that was both unsettling and intoxicating—an unfamiliar feeling for someone usually soposed.
Hera, however, was only trying to calm him. She didn’t want him to ruin his own birthday over something so trivial—this was a situation she could handle on her own. She had no idea the effect her touch had on him, or how much effort it took for him to mask the sudden rush of emotion swirling inside him. Yet, no matter how well he tried to hide it, the dark, possessive glint that shed through his eyes was unmistakable.
Mindy saw it instantly. Her smug expression faltered, and her brow furrowed as she studied Hera again—but this time, the mockery was gone. If earlier she had looked at Hera like a cheap novelty, now she examined her like a legitimate threat. Her eyes narrowed, turning sharp and venomous as a flicker of jealousy bloomed beneath her polished exterior.
"Miss Mindy, is it?" Hera said smoothly. "I’m Hera Ainsley. I happened to cross paths with Mr. Arnault here as a foreign guest in this country. He was simply kind enough to extend his courtesy and introduce us to the local social scene—for the sake of broader business opportunities andworking, of course."
She spoke with poise and a calm, polished smile as she extended a hand in greeting. Mindy, however, ignored the gesture. Unbothered, Hera retracted her hand gracefully, her expression unchanging, as if she hadn’t expected anything different.
After all, a woman who could publicly im to be an Arnault’s fiancée was almost certainly from a family of equal stature. And from the way Alexandre clearly held no fondness for her, it wasn’t hard to guess—this was a business engagement, likely arranged for power and alliance. In other words, Mindy came from a house just as powerful as the Arnaults—someone Hera would do well not to underestimate, but also, someone whose insecurities were beginning to show.
"A foreigner, huh? Well, you certainly <i>look</i> the part," Mindy said with a smirk, pausing as her eyes swept over Hera. She had every intention of mocking her—perhaps something about her appearance, her figure, or the typical stereotypes about foreigners not measuring up to European standards. But as she studied Hera—her poised expression, elegant figure, and statuesque height—Mindy found herself momentarily at a loss.
There was nothing she could easily criticize—at least, not without sounding insecure.
Then, noticing that Alexandre was speaking to Hera in English, a new idea sparked. Switchingnguages, Mindy turned to French, intending to insult Hera to her face under the assumption that she wouldn’t understand.
Her voice dripped with venom as she addressed the room, loud enough for the surrounding guests to hear and for Hera to feel the shift in energy, even if she didn’t understand the specifics.
"She must’vee here hunting for a rich husband. Look at her—she screams high-ss mistress. And the nerve to aim straight for Alexandre? She really does dream big. ’Business’ and working’? Please. A woman like her doesn’t belong in front of the Arnaults or the Pinaults. Slut."