Emma, clad in her signature white attire, lounged on a plush velvet chaise, a glass of champagne in hand. Across from her, Madelyne Pryor stood with her arms crossed, her fiery red hair catching the dim light as she glared with intensity. The dancers twirled around them, oblivious to the brewing storm between the two women.

Madelyne leaned forward, her voice low and fierce. “You think this place belongs to you, Emma? The Hellfire Club is a mere stepping stone for my plans. With it, I will open a portal to Limbo and harness power you can only dream of.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You may have charm, Madelyne, but you lack the discipline to lead the Hellfire Club.”

Madelyne shot back, her voice rising. “Is discipline what you call manipulating your way into the title of White Queen? I’ve seen how you operate. The club is a chessboard, and you’ve played your pieces well, but I know how to play the game better.”

Setting her glass down, Emma leaned in closer, her gaze icy. “This isn’t just a game. You think you can sweep in with your theatrics, but the members here respect strength, not empty bravado.”

Madelyne scowled. “Strength? Or fear? You think they follow you out of respect, but it’s because they’re terrified of what you might do if they don’t. I can offer them something different—freedom, adventure.”

Emma scoffed, her demeanor unwavering. “Freedom? What you’re offering is chaos, Madelyne. Limbo is not a playground; it’s a battleground.“

“Perhaps you’re afraid of what I could unleash,” Madelyne countered, her voice a venomous whisper.

“If you think you can just waltz in and take what I’ve built, you’re sorely mistaken,” Emma declared, her voice cold. “You may have ambitions, but I have the club—and the backing of those who matter.”

Madelyne smirked, confidence brimming. “Backing? Or a bunch of puppets dancing to your tune?”

Emma leaned in, her voice low and dangerous. “Try me. Make your move, and I’ll show you just how unwise it is to challenge the White Queen.”