"Are you sure the ticket doesn’t allow more than one person?" Chelsea asked for the hundredth ti, watching as Gianna admired herself in the mirror.
Beside her on the bed was Areso, who would have loved to attend the auction—not because she was particularly into such events, but because the first invitation had co from Sabrina.
That alone ant sothing was wrong.
And it made them wish they could go with their friend, in case she needed their presence. But Gianna had held out on telling them until the ti for getting a ticket was closed.
She’d said it wasn’t intentional... but one could never be sure with their mysterious friend. Areso mused, pouting.
Gianna, catching her expression through the mirror, laughed softly. "You both should stop fussing. I will be fine."
Chelsea rolled her eyes. "And your mysterious date? What if it’s an enemy? Or even Sabrina herself... the girl can be wacko. She could have done that just to taunt you."
Like Gianna, her two friends hadn’t known who carried those initials—Athena inclusive.
Gianna had almost involved Spider or the twins, but for the thrill of wanting to know this person herself.
She would kill a lot if it ended up being Sabrina, toying with her nerves this way.
"How do I look, guys?" She asked, turning again, pleased with her reflection, knowing she looked breathtaking.
Her face was professionally beat—soft, glowing foundation lted seamlessly into her warm skin tone; a subtle contour sharpened her cheekbones; her lids shimred with a bronze-gold dust that caught the light every ti she blinked.
Her lashes were long and full, fanning dramatically with every movent. A dark, precise wing hugged her eyes. Her lips were a deep wine-red gloss, plush and inviting.
She wore a silk gown—pure liquid elegance. The fabric hugged her waist and hips with a smooth, languid caress, accentuating every curve without trying.
The dress was backless, dipping low in a sensual V, with a delicate silk tie around her neck forming a small, neat bow that added both innocence and allure.
Her heels were tall, elegant, matching her gown’s muted sheen. Her jewelry was delicate yet stunning—thin gold bracelets, tiny crystal-drop earrings, and a slender necklace that glimred subtly against her collarbone.
And in her hand was a studded jewelry purse that looked like it belonged in a museum vault.
"You know you look good, Gianna. You’re in an Areso gown," Chelsea said.
Gianna smiled, pleased with the complint—pleased with the understanding behind it too. Areso had always crafted masterpieces; she wasn’t an international fashion designer for nothing.
"Areso, your hands are damn gifted," she said to her friend.
Areso’s pout deepened. "I wish my words were just as gifted. Would have chard my way into that auction."
Gianna laughed. "When are you leaving though? Or are you planning on moving in here like Chelsea? Maybe moving in with Dario?"
Her eyes turned suggestive, matching Chelsea’s mischievous wink...
But she noticed the flash of sadness cross Areso’s face. Gone in a second, but there.
"Not at all. I’ll be leaving when Athena cos back. I want to see her one more ti before imrsing myself in work again. This has been a long vacation... Mother is already beckoning on ."
Gianna nodded, though her mind lingered on that sadness. Did sothing happen?
"We will miss you," Chelsea said softly. "Sure you can’t move your practice here?"
Areso rolled her eyes. "No can do."
"Not even for Dario?"
That flash again. That sa sadness.
Gianna kissed her teeth. What had that handso fool done? Why were n always scummy? Well—apart from a handful like old Mr. Thorne...
"No, not even for him." Her voice was light, but the crack in it was unmistakable. Chelsea heard it too.
But they wouldn’t talk about it tonight—not until Areso was ready. Whatever it was, it was still fresh, still raw.
What could have happened? Gianna wondered for the umpteenth ti as she slipped into the back seat of Rodney’s car.
It was barely a week and so days since the wedding—since the duo had been laughing in each other’s arms.
She shook her head with a sigh. Best to push it aside.
If her mind wandered too far, she might not be quick enough to sense Sabrina’s traps tonight.
—
Rodney pulled out smoothly from the elite Thorne street, the city lights stroking the windows as the car glided into the evening traffic.
Gianna leaned back, fingers brushing absentmindedly against her studded purse.
Thoughts of the function seeped into her mind—the yearly charity auction her mother used to co-host. A gala of hope, she rembered. A night where the wealthy poured out support that truly made a difference.
Back then, the funds had gone to children from broken hos, from shelters, from nothing—and turned their futures into gold. So of those children had beco international geniuses in tech, arts, diplomacy, invention.
Lives had changed. She had seen the letters. Had hugged the beneficiaries. Had watched her mother beam with pride.
Now? She barely heard anything anymore. Only curated stories, carefully filtered, sanitized, and suspiciously few.
Where did all the money go now? What was the yearly fortune being used for?
A bitter sigh escaped her. Greed. Disgusting greed. The taste of it coated her tongue like ash.
That greed alone, and their cold treatnt toward her after her mother’s death, had killed any desire to pick up her mother’s torch.
Their greed perish with them!
anwhile, outside the window, the cityscape shifted to the quieter side of town, where tall trees lined the street leading toward the organization’s building.
Rodney slowed as they approached the gates.
The building stood proud, three stories tall, painted a pristine white—so white it almost glowed under the golden wash of evening lights. Its architecture was modern with a hint of classical charm: tall glass windows frad by smooth white pillars, soft yellow uplights bathing the structure in warmth.
Outside, the walkway was lined with floral arrangents—white lilies and soft peach roses tied with silver ribbons. Small lanterns flickered along the path, creating a soft, elegant glow.
A large banner hung at the entrance, printed with the organization’s emblem.
The text read:
"Annual Hearts of Gold Charity Auction: In Pursuit of Brighter Futures."
Gianna stared at it blankly, annoyance simring quietly beneath her ribs. Her coming here better be worth it!
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