The Jilted Heiress In Blood Red

Estella clawed the strips of velvet off her face. Her hair was a mess, her makeup running. The saintly image was gone, replaced by a hysterical mess.

"Security!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Get this psycho!"

Harlene watched her squirm. A dark, twisted part of her enjoyed the sight. But it wasn't enough.

She raised the dagger. She took a step toward Estella, her eyes glowing with a feral hunger.

Estella scrambled backward, her heel catching on the remains of her skirt. She fell hard on her backside.

Harlene stood over her, the tip of the blade pointing at Estella's nose. She looked like a queen looking down at a beggar.

Jailyn tried to get up. Her heel slipped on the polished floor, and she fell again.

Harlene's eyes flicked to her. She remembered the smug look on Jailyn's face.

Harlene pivoted. She ignored Estella and charged at Jailyn, the dagger raised.

Jailyn froze. She saw the blade coming for her shoulder. She screamed, squeezing her eyes shut.

The blade never touched her.

A large hand grabbed the blade mid-swing. Blood instantly welled up, dripping onto Jailyn's pale dress.

Dennis had appeared out of nowhere, his hand wrapped around the steel.

Harlene looked up. Dennis's face was twisted in pain, but his eyes were full of disgust. His eyes, for a split second, didn't lock on Jailyn's terrified face, but darted towards the cluster of press cameras, his mind instantly calculating the political calculus of this heroic wound.

He didn't look at her. He turned to Jailyn, checking her frantically for wounds, ignoring the blood pouring from his own palm.

It was the press conference all over again. He was protecting the other woman. She was the monster.

A laugh bubbled up in Harlene's throat. It was a sound of pure disbelief. She tried to pull the knife back, but Dennis's grip was iron.

"Drop it," Dennis growled through gritted teeth. "Stop this."

Harlene twisted her wrist. She rotated the blade inside his grip. The edge sliced deeper into his palm.

Dennis gasped, his fingers spasming open. Harlene ripped the knife back.

The security guards, seeing blood and a potential hostage situation unfolding, finally pushed through the crowd, their tasers drawn and aimed at her chest.

Harlene looked around. She was surrounded. But she wasn't scared.

She looked back at Estella, who was cowering behind Dennis.

Harlene knew she had to end this. She needed a bigger distraction.

She moved. She was faster than the guards. She dodged a reaching hand and lunged for Estella.

Before Dennis could react, Harlene's hand was tangled in Estella's hair. She yanked hard.

Estella screamed as she was dragged to the floor. Harlene pressed the bloody blade against Estella's throat.

The guards froze. Dennis froze. The room held its breath.

Harlene began to walk backward, dragging Estella along the floor like a sack of garbage. She headed for the stage, a jaunty whistle echoing through the silent room.