The moment Aurora saw the middle-aged woman standing at the restaurant entrance, her face fell.
The woman's presence demanded attention, styled hair, an elegant pearl necklace, and a refined dress that exuded wealth, but her expression was anything but graceful.
Rage burned through every line of her face.
Aurora blinked, then looked at Jules, and finally at the woman again. She recognized her instantly. Annie. Jules's mother.
And just like that, Aurora's chest tightened with irritation. Of all people to show up now, it had to be her.
If someone had asked Aurora to list people she wished would disappear from society, Annie would've easily made the top five. It was a wonder, a miracle even, that Jules had survived growing up under her.
Annie didn't waste a single second. She marched forward with the fury of a storm, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Before anyone could react, she raised her hand and swung it toward Jules's face.
