Chapter 15

The Vaughan Group's 30th Anniversary Gala

The mansion was buzzing with life, its grand chandelier blazing overhead, bathing the entire ballroom in golden light.

A renowned pianist played a graceful, flowing melody on a glossy black Steinway, while waiters in crisp tuxedos glided through the crowd, silver trays of champagne flutes balanced expertly in their hands.

Tonight, every man was dressed to the nines in tailored suits, while the women floated by in an array of designer evening gowns.

Isadora had chosen a simple, high-necked, one-shoulder black dress that hugged her figure. The elegant cut drew subtle attention to her porcelain skin-though she was careful to hide the faint marks Victor had left at her collarbone.

Earlier, Eleanor had sent over a slinky, jewel-toned gown for Isadora to wear: plunging neckline, open back, the sort of thing designed to make a statement. Isadora had barely glanced at it before tucking it away. There was no way she'd step out in that tonight.

When she finally entered the ballroom, she caught sight of Pearl immediately.

and dramatic open back left little to the imagination, and her sweeping train gave her the air of a princess holding court. A crocodile-skin designer

corner of the room, a whisper of gossip floated over

favorite. Who doesn't

isn't even their own, but their real daughter barely gets a second

spotted them at the mall— Eleanor was buying her armfuls of designer bags, with bodyguards trailing behind, struggling to carry it

but she didn't kick Pearl out-she's still the one getting sidelined. She's the real daughter, but somehow she's the one treated like a

Pearl for twenty years; of

me, Isadora's only shot at

will that even happen? Didn't you hear-just two days ago, he threw a fake wedding for that old flame of

parents only have eyes for their adopted daughter, and even her fiancé is hung up on someone

in late. Her expression darkened further when she

keep the annoyance out of her voice, Eleanor leaned in and asked under

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