**Winds Carry Lost Promises by Asa Holt**
**Chapter 77**
The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of the imposing structure known as Snowy House.
Marina leaned closer to the window, her gaze fixed on the elegant facade of the building. It was a sight she had seen many times before, yet today, it felt different. A faint smile danced on her lips, but it barely reached her eyes, which were clouded with uncertainty.
“If it weren’t for you, I seriously doubt Mallory would have even extended an invitation for me to this gathering,” Marina remarked, her tone a mix of gratitude and disbelief.
As they stepped out of the car, the entrance of Snowy House loomed before them, guarded by a line of stern-faced security personnel. They stood like sentinels, scrutinizing each guest as they arrived, ensuring that no one slipped in uninvited.
“Didn’t she cling to you for years, yearning to be your friend? And besides, with me by your side, what’s there to fear?” Kara said, intertwining her fingers with Marina’s as she leaned in, her voice laced with warmth and affection.
Marina couldn’t help but smile, nudging her head affectionately against Kara’s shoulder.
“I’m not afraid,” she replied, though deep down, uncertainty gnawed at her. Given the precarious state of the Finley Group, fear was a luxury she could ill afford.
Together, they made their way into Snowy House, the atmosphere shifting as they crossed the threshold. The staff, recognizing Kara, immediately waved them through without a second glance, their routine of checks momentarily forgotten.
Once inside, Kara took the lead, guiding Marina through a beautifully designed courtyard adorned with intricate patterns and down a hallway lined with antique decor. Each step felt like a passage into a world of elegance and unspoken tension.
Kara gracefully hooked her arm around Marina’s and pushed open the door to their private room. A decorative screen stood just inside, obscuring their view of the guests seated around a lavishly set table.
At the head of the table sat Mallory, her expression bright with a welcoming smile that felt anything but genuine. The two empty seats flanking her were clearly reserved for Marina and Kara.
As they entered, Mallory made no effort to rise, merely glancing their way as she coolly remarked, “You’re here?”
Her voice was soft, almost condescending, her gaze lingering on Marina with an unsettling familiarity.
“Marina, it’s been quite a while,” Mallory added, her tone dripping with feigned warmth.
At her words, every head at the table turned to scrutinize Marina, their eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and judgment.
Maintaining her composure, Marina offered a polite smile, her posture straightening as she replied, “It truly has been a while.”
Mallory’s eyes roamed over Marina’s figure, her eyebrow arching slightly as if issuing a silent challenge. “We were just discussing you, actually.”
The smiles around the table felt rigid, the underlying tension palpable. It was clear that their conversation had not been one of fond reminiscence.
“Oh? It’s been ages. I’m sure everyone must have missed me,” Marina said, her voice light yet laced with an edge.
Kara’s eyes darted around the table, noticing how the others quickly averted their gazes, unwilling to engage.
Mallory let out a soft, almost mocking laugh. “Come on, sit down. Don’t just stand there. I saved these seats for you two.”
As soon as the invitation left Mallory’s lips, one of the guests quickly stood up, pulling out a chair for Kara with an eagerness that spoke volumes.
“Come on, Kara, have a seat,” the guest urged, clearly eager to please.
Despite Mallory’s dismissive attitude toward Marina, the others were keenly aware of her presence and wouldn’t dare ignore her.
Kara, however, didn’t rush to sit. Instead, she pulled out a chair beside her for Marina, her intent clear.
“Marina, sit,” Kara insisted, her voice firm yet gentle.
Marina didn’t hesitate; she took her seat with grace, feeling the weight of the room’s scrutiny. Only after she settled did Kara take her place beside her, and a ripple of discomfort flitted across the faces of several guests.
Mallory shot them a quick glance but chose to remain silent, a slight smirk playing on her lips.
“So, Marina, now that you’re back in Vrufield, are you planning to stay with the Finley Group?” Mallory asked, her tone casual, yet her eyes sparkled with undisguised condescension.
The room was thick with the unspoken knowledge of the Finley Group’s decline, a fact that hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice.
It had been years since the Finley Group had graced the Gill Family’s banquet list, a mark of their waning influence.
Marina straightened her posture, meeting Mallory’s gaze with unwavering resolve.
“If nothing unexpected happens, I won’t be staying with the Finley Group for now,” Marina replied, her voice steady.
Mallory nodded, feigning agreement, her expression a mask of faux sympathy.
“That’s for the best. People should always find a way out for themselves. Otherwise, when the Finley Group collapses, you might have nowhere to go,” Mallory said, her words laced with mock concern.

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