Chapter 26: Drawing Attention to Self
I set my fork down with deliberate slowness.
Looked her right in the eye.
And smiled.
Then, ever so gracefully, I placed my napkin on my lap, refusing to rise to the bait. "You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Selena?" My voice was smooth, almost lazy, but each word landed like a dagger. "After all, that is all you do."
A gasp rippled through the nearby tables.
Yesterday I had been ek because I didn’t want to disappoint dad but today he has given
a chance and a touch of power.
"How dare you?!" Selena’s shriek was imdiate, her face twisting with fury.
I lifted a brow, unimpressed. "Please, leave
be. This is not your place to make noise," I warned, my tone effortlessly condescending.
Selena’s eyes burned, but before she could claw back so dignity, her mother, Mariela, chid in, her voice as soft as silk but laced with steel. "Girls, let’s not argue. This is a celebration, after all."
Her gaze, however, lingered on —assessing, weighing, searching for a crack.
"Hermia, dear," Mariela continued, feigning warmth. "That dress is quite... unexpected. I didn’t realize you had such taste."
A classic Mariela move—disguising a barb as a complint.
I smiled tightly, raising my champagne flute as if to toast. "Thank you, Mum. I didn’t realize you knew such taste." I took a delicate sip, relishing the flicker of irritation in her eyes at the forced endearnt.
Selena leaned back, arms crossed, her smirk returning. "Well, you certainly have everyone’s attention tonight. I heard so of the guests wondering how you managed to afford such an outfit. Care to enlighten us?"
I set my glass down with slow, deliberate care, my eyes sweeping across the table. "Perhaps they’re curious because they know it’s not sothing they could pull off themselves." I tilted my head toward Selena, watching as her expression darkened.
I bit the inside of my lip. I love this little confidence I’m feeling. Maybe it’s the drink.
Mariela let out a soft, hollow laugh. "Oh, Hermia, don’t be so defensive. Selena’s just teasing." She smiled, but her eyes were cold. "Though, I must admit, such a dress does seem extravagant for soone of... your circumstances."
There it was.
I knew exactly what she ant. Your circumstances. A thinly veiled reminder of my illegitimacy, my outsider status, my place in the shadows of the Blackwood family.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table—a breach of etiquette that I knew would make Mariela’s eye twitch. "You’re absolutely right, Mum. It is extravagant. But sotis, you have to remind people what you’re worth."
Mariela’s lips thinned.
Selena scoffed, her annoyance flaring. "Worth? Is that what you call it? I think it’s more about luck—and borrowing favors."
I let out a soft chuckle. "Careful, Selena. Jealousy doesn’t suit you. Then again, neither does subtlety."
A strained silence spread across the table as the server arrived with the main course—roasted duck breast, foie gras, and a drizzle of berry reduction. The aroma was divine, but the air at the Blackwood table was suffocating.
Selena reached for her third glass of wine.
I tilted my head. "You might want to be mindful of how much you’re drinking. Wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself—again."
Her fingers clenched around the stem of her glass, a telltale sign that my words had struck. "You little—"
"Ladies." Mariela’s voice cut through the tension, sharp enough to slice through silk. "Enough."
She dabbed at her lips with her napkin and fixed
with a practiced smile—one that never quite reached her eyes. "Hermia, you’ve certainly made an impression tonight. I hope you’ll rember that first impressions are important—and lasting."
I returned her smile, just as icy. "Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Mum. I’ve learned from the best how to leave a lasting impression."
The table fell into silence, but I felt their gazes burning into .
Around us, the laughter and clinking of glasses from the other guests contrasted starkly with the battlefield brewing at the Blackwood table.
I picked up my fork and took a deliberate bite of the duck, savoring it more out of spite than hunger.
They can whisper. They can speculate. They can try to tear
down.
But tonight?
Tonight, I’m untouchable.
I raised my glass for another sip, letting my gaze flick toward the far end of the room. A striking man in a tailored suit was watching
with interest.
I allowed myself a small smile. Let them talk.
I had already enjoyed the spotlight for a while, and I was beginning to like it.
A Shift in the Atmosphere
The soft hum of murmurs died down as the host stepped onto the grand stage.
Frank Cruz, a powerful man in his early fifties, exuded effortless charm. His tailored suit glead under the chandelier’s warm glow, and he held the microphone with the confidence of soone accustod to commanding a room.
Applause rippled across the ballroom as he smiled at the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlen, thank you for joining us tonight," he began, his voice smooth and commanding. "We are here to celebrate not just the success of our endeavors but the relationships and connections that make such triumphs possible. I have always believed that success is both an expectation and, when it happens, a delightful surprise. Tonight, it’s my honor to share that surprise with all of you."
The audience chuckled at his well-placed remark, admiration shining in their eyes.
As the speech wrapped up, guests began to rise from their seats, their movents fluid and elegant as they mingled. Servers weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres.
I stood near the edge of the room, fingers brushing the stem of my glass. The warmth of gazes lingered on
as I moved, and whispers followed in my wake.
n offered polite smiles, so lingering just a mont too long, their girlfriends or wives casting wary glances in my direction.
"Excuse ."
A deep voice cut through my thoughts.
I turned, eting the gaze of a man in his mid-thirties. His sharp features were softened by an easy, charming smile.
"I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room." His eyes glimred with interest. "That dress is extraordinary, but I’d say it’s the woman wearing it who’s truly captivating."
I arched a brow, the corner of my lips curving just slightly.
Let the gas begin.
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