No one could possibly imagine the pressure she was under. Brinley thought she needed to be rescued, but here, in Yoran Country, she couldn’t even save herself.
“What kind of black magic did you use on Herbert to make him do this for you?” Harriet hissed, her voice dangerously low.
Starla let out a cold laugh at the mention of Herbert. “Black magic? If anyone in Marina City is a master of dark arts, Harriet, it’s you. You’re an old witch who built a career as a mistress and raised a daughter to destroy families. What right do you have to accuse anyone else of witchcraft?”
Harriet had slept her way to the top. The whole city knew how she had built her business empire. And now she had the audacity to scream about black magic, as if she’d forgotten the filthy path she had walked to get here.
Starla's words were a direct hit. Harriet felt the blood rush to her head. “You…”
“Have you forgotten, Harriet? Have you forgotten the sordid details of your own rise to power?”
“Shut up!” Harriet shrieked, completely losing her composure. When had this pathetic girl developed such a sharp tongue? Her temples throbbed with a furious headache.
“Do you really think Herbert can protect you forever?” Harriet spat, trying to regain control. “The Farley family elders will never accept you. What will you do then, when they find out about you?”
Trapped in Yoran Country, Harriet was out of the loop. Her threats were based on old information.
“Why don’t you worry about yourself?” Starla countered smoothly. “You had so many lovers back in the day. How is it that you have no one to rely on now?”
Every retort was a perfectly aimed dart. Harriet was practically vibrating with rage. “Starla!”
“Did I strike a nerve?” Starla purred.
It wasn't so long ago that Harriet had relished watching others squirm. Now, it was her turn.
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