Chapter 137 - Estela POV
I walk forward with purposeful strides, the click of my heels sharp against the casino floor. Without hesitation, I wrap my arm around Daphne's bicep and pull her ever-so-gently—but firmly—a step back from Miss Barbie in red.
The blonde stumbles slightly, clearly not expecting the move. I give her a smile that doesn't reach my eyes.
"Ohhhh, lady, you—" she begins, all feigned offense and saccharine protest.
"Allow me to introduce my beloved, Estela," Daphne says smoothly, cutting her off with a voice that could stop traffic.
I blink.
Beloved?
I try not to show my reaction, but inside, I feel like I want to do a stupid little dance or stick out my tongue at the Barbie.
The table of old men lets out a chorus of laughter—rough, amused, like bark cracking in their throats.
"Ho ho ho!" one of them wheezes. "So that explains it. There was a reason none of the ones we sent your way caught your eye. You clearly have a type."
