The tension at our table was thick enough to cut with a knife. I'd faced down powerful cultivators and corrupt family patriarchs, but there was something uniquely irritating about the petty cruelty unfolding before me. Aurora sat rigidly beside me, her face flushed with embarrassment from the crude comments.
Before I could respond to the tattooed woman's insult, a commotion erupted nearby. A sharp female voice cut through the Underground Ring's din.
"Well, well, well. Look who it is."
A slender woman with meticulously styled blonde hair pushed through the crowd, her eyes locked on Jaxon. Her designer clothes contrasted sharply with the gritty environment, and her manicured nails gleamed under the harsh lighting.
Jaxon's face drained of color. "Ashlee," he muttered, looking like he'd seen a ghost.
"Surprised to see me?" She planted herself directly in front of our table, hands on hips, lips curled into a vicious smile.
