I step out of the washroom at the Royal Club, adjusting my cuffs as I head back toward the private conference room. The marble floors echo softly under my footsteps in the dimly lit corridor.
"Excuse me."
The voice stops me cold. Not because it's particularly commanding, but because I recognize it instantly. A voice that once sneered at me in front of half our high school class.
I turn slowly, my expression carefully neutral.
Catherine Shaw stands before me, designer dress hugging her curves, diamond jewelry catching the ambient light. She's more polished now than she was five years ago, but that same arrogant tilt to her chin remains unchanged.
For a split second, something darker than recognition flashes through my mind. The memory of her laughing as she dumped a full cafeteria tray over my head. The way she'd called me worthless in front of everyone who mattered.
My hands clench involuntarily. It would be so easy to snap her neck right here in this hallway.
