Veronica had been keeping close tabs on her stepmother for days while she stayed hidden, keeping a low profile. After all, the woman had recently arranged for her kidnapping and had planned for her death. Precaution was a necessity. All she needed now was the window of opportunity to strike – and a quiet brunch for one seemed like the perfect shot.

Maité had gotten an outdoor table for one at Le Ritz Mudra Fucquers’ Café, an exclusive French bistro for rich ********. Sitting alone and drinking her chia latte, Veronica moved in – dressed in a tight red and black dress, high black stilettos, a large pair of shades and an intense blood red lip. She commanded her stepmother’s attention as she arrived to the outdoor patio.

“Veronica?” she gasped, nearly choking on her drink. The two women were debutantes and of the elite class of Destiny City. There was a proper etiquette to a public confrontation and a formal code of how to communicate with venomous barbed words that would fly under the radar to the commoner’s ear. “What are you doing here?”
Translation: “You’re alive?”

“Maité!” Veronica cooed as she made her way over. She ordered a coffee to go as she grabbed a chair and sat with her stepmother. “I hardly would have noticed you! You seem so dressed down today.”
Translation: “Alive and well, b***h. And looking better than you.”

“I haven’t seen you in almost a week darling,” her stepmother pleaded. “What have you been up to?”
Translation: “How did you escape my kidnappers? Where are they now?”

“Oh you know me, doing my own busy thing,” she started. “And I know you’ve been busy yourself.”
Translation: “Cut the s**t. I know what you’ve done.”

“Is that so?”
Translation: “You don’t know s**t, girl.”

“Well I assume you must be busy dealing with daddy’s financials,” she started. “Not to mention keeping close tabs on mine.”
Translation: “I know you killed my father and tried to kill me. But you’re not getting the family’s money.”

“I trust that you’re responsible.”
Translation: “Watch yourself.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t want to make any mistakes and cause any trouble. It’s best to avoid trouble, isn’t it?”
Translation: “You are the one who should watch it.”

The two women stared down at each other intensely as they sipped on their lattes. A manicured hand reached for a butter knife, stroking on the blade as the woman’s hand tightened into a grip.

“My birthday is coming up soon, I would love for you to attend,” Veronica started. “It is the least you could do.”
Translation: “Round two on my turf. Be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Translation: “It’s on.”

“Excellent, I’ll text you the deets,” she smiled, her demeanor warming up intensely. “Kisses!”

She blew a kiss of death as she grabbed her coffee and glided out of the café with a sense of victory. Necessary threats were made and her plans were in motion, but Maité’s mind was churning with ideas for her next move.

The battle of the rich bitches of Destiny City has begun and only one of them will come out of it alive.