Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

"You dare? There are people everywhere. Even if you kill me, you won't get away."

Quintessa shrugged, "Try me, and you'll find out. You know me. Once I go crazy, I don't care about anything." Rachel felt panic-stricken. Of course, she knew Quintessa was a lunatic, a devil without a shred of sanity.

Rachel thought she was truly going to die. She heard a tearing sound and felt a sudden chill on her chest. Looking down, she saw a long cut made by a razor blade. Rachel reached to touch it, but Quintessa pinned her hand down tightly: "Quintessa, what are you up to?"

Quintessa continued cutting and said, "Rachel, at your age, going bare suits your wild temperament better."

Soon, Rachel's long dress was reduced to ribbons, which Quintessa grabbed in a bunch.

"Rachel, thanks for showing up tonight. Otherwise, who would I vent to? I hope you can endure longer than Miranda did, or else whom will I play with?"

Quintessa whistled, feeling much better, and threw the cloth scraps into a trash before leaving.

However, she hadn't taken two steps before seeing Alexander standing at the door of the men's restroom. Quintessa's face fell, her previous good mood evaporating instantly. The smirk on her face faded away as she ignored him and walked on.

"Monica."

Quintessa heard the call from behind and quickened her pace.

There had never been a Monica in this world!

Upon returning to the venue, Mrs. York grabbed Quintessa: "You've been in the bathroom for so long. Why didn't you come back?"

Quintessa smiled and linked her arm with Mrs. York's: "Are you worried about me?"

Mrs. York rolled her eyes at her. "Humph, who's worried about

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Quintessa bit her lip, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Mrs. York.

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Quintessa nodded, feigning innocence: "Auntie, what if I really did cause some trouble? What should I do?"

Mrs. York's face flushed with anger: "I knew you this little demon is trouble."

Before she could finish, she hurriedly dragged Quintessa to find Tyrone, pulling her son away from the business partners he was chatting with. Mrs. York whispered urgently, "Quick, before anyone notices, let's get out of here."

"What's wrong, Mom? Why the rush?"

Mrs. York glared at Quintessa:

"What's wrong? Isn't it because

this little demon's mischief? Sret

caused trouble. Hurry, let's go before we get caught."

Quintessa felt a complex mix of emotions-bitterness, warmth, and sadness.

Mrs. York could have just left with Tyrone, ignoring her. Whatever trouble Quintessa caused, it really had nothing to do with the York family.

But Mrs. York didn't even ask what trouble she caused. She just pulled her along to run.

"Mom, hold on. Let's first ask Quinn what trouble she caused. Besides, do we, the York family, really need to worry about getting into trouble?" "Oh yeah. What did you do?" Mrs. York suddenly remembered she hadn't actually asked Quintessa what she had done.

"Quintessa touched her nose, "I tore off Rachel's clothes."