Quintessa's declaration was brazen and roguish.

Tyrone and Cecilia were both frozen in place as if under a spell, staring straight at Quintessa.

Quintessa was the very siren who had cast the spell.

From the other end of the phone, Rachel's breaths came quick and heavy, charged with a fury close to combustion.

"Quintessa, do you have no shame? I'm your aunt, and Tyrone is my boyfriend. If you had any decency, you wouldn't stoop to such lows. Are you really setting out to follow in your mother's footsteps? Does stealing someone else's man give you a sense of achievement?"

Rachel's spiritual fortitude was commendable. Had it been Miranda in her shoes, she would have lost her composure and lashed out in a blind rage.

Cecilia a clear message: Quintessa was nothing but trash, a home-wrecker

about to

instantly, her gaze

her chin: "You're right. Taking your man does give me a peculiar sense of achievement, especially when I think about your man sleeping with me every night, it brings me

right there, aren't you afraid

"I'm not afraid of karma; I'm just worrying it might not come

"Rachel, you keep saying Tyrone is your boyfriend, but does he acknowledge that? He personally told me that

to one of feigned

lies came as naturally as breathing, no

he indeed found Rachel

played along with Quintessa:

a look that said,

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