Violet Bento’s carefully constructed composure fissured. The insult, so elegantly delivered, had landed with the precision of a scalpel. Linsy wasn’t just dismissing her show; she was dismissing her entire persona, relegating her to the realm of cheap, meaningless spectacle. The need to reassert her dominance, to claw back the high ground in front of Michael, was a physical itch.

“You know,” Violet said, her voice saccharine as she glided toward the floor-to-ceiling window, a stage move ...