Amy Sinclair turned her head and caught sight of a cocky young man strutting toward her with his boisterous entourage. She recognized him immediately—Nathan Prescott.

He was Alexander Blackwood's friend and one of Victoria Langley's most devoted followers. From the moment Amy started dating Alexander, Nathan made his disdain clear, constantly sneering and undermining her.

When Victoria returned, Nathan became the most enthusiastic messenger, shuttling between her and Alexander. If Victoria so much as stubbed her toe, Nathan would be on the phone, urging Alexander to rush to her side. More than once, he'd outright suggested Amy step aside for Victoria.

Nathan swaggered up to Amy, a smirk twisting his lips. "Well, well, if it isn't the little homemaker. Shouldn't you be at home perfecting your pie crust and keeping your husband happy? What are you doing out here, embarrassing yourself in public? That's not very wifely of you."

Amy was the kind of woman who could host a charity gala flawlessly and still bake a perfect soufflé without breaking a sweat. She excelled at it all. So, Nathan had christened her "Homemaker." From then on, every time someone from Alexander's circle saw her, they'd greet her with that mocking title.

Nathan's tone grated on Samantha Reynolds' nerves, her brow furrowing in irritation. Amy, however, remained composed, her expression turning glacial.

Unfazed, Nathan whistled, feigning innocence. "Oh, come on, Homemaker. Don't tell me you can't take a joke?"

His friends chimed in, egging him on. "Lighten up, Mrs. Blackwood! You're making Alexander look bad!"

One of them scoffed, "Face it, you're just a housewife. What else do you do besides cater to your husband?"

Another sneered, "You think you can compare to Victoria? She graduated from the Royal Solmaris Conservatory, in case you forgot."

"Royal Solmaris Conservatory?" Samantha repeated, glancing at Amy. "Funny, I don’t recall Victoria ever mentioning that."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should get out more. Broaden your horizons."

Samantha arched a brow. "Celeste, who is this guy? He’s got a real chip on his shoulder, doesn’t he?"

Amy replied coolly, "One of Victoria's lapdogs. You can call him a simp."

"Ohhh, Victoria's simp!" Samantha gasped dramatically, her anger dissolving into amusement. "Now it all makes sense."

Nathan's face darkened, but before he could retort, Amy flashed him a saccharine smile. "Mr. Simp, surely you can take a joke, right?"

Samantha jumped in, grinning. "What’s wrong? A grown man like you can’t handle a little teasing? That’s pathetic."

Amy added smoothly, "Don’t waste your breath, Sam. He’s not worth it."

Nathan's friends shifted uncomfortably, realizing they’d been outplayed.

Samantha laughed. "Come on, Celeste. Let’s go have some real fun."

With that, they turned their backs on Nathan and his cronies, leaving them fuming in their wake.