Jefferson's POV
The harsh sound of Cathrine's voice pierced through the evening air as I approached the clearing. Her words dripped with venom and satisfaction, each syllable calculated to wound. "You think I don't know about your little arrangement with Jefferson? How your marriage is fake? That he hired you to play his pretend Luna?"
I stopped in my tracks, fury building in my chest like a storm gathering strength. My eyes immediately found Elisabeth standing at the center of the hostile circle, her face drained of color. She appeared frozen, her mouth opening and closing without sound, as if searching for words that wouldn't come.
The sight of her looking so vulnerable, so exposed, made my blood burn with protective rage. Cathrine stood opposite her with arms folded, wearing that self-satisfied smirk I'd grown to despise. She was clearly enjoying every second of this public humiliation, feeding off the shocked silence that followed her accusation.
