The woman wore a pale blue dress that hugged her figure, highlighting a waist so slender it seemed almost impossible. A high slit along the skirt offered tantalizing glimpses of long, elegant legs as she walked a vision that seemed to turn every head.

Her face was delicate and petite, features strikingly defined despite the subtle touch of makeup. Full lips curved in a faint, knowing smile, while luminous eyes sparkled with life and wit. Every movement radiated an effortless allure, natural and unforced, as if she was born for the spotlight.

A few years back, everyone mingling in the garden had dealings with the Lane family. There was no way they could mistake that face.

It was her―

Emily Blair, the one the Lanes had thrown out!

Emily Blair!

"Wait, isn't that Emily Blair? Didn't Kevin Lane kick her out? What is she doing back here?"

“Unbelievable. She actually had the nerve to show up. Isn't she worried about being thrown out again?"

"That name rings a bell... I swear I've heard it somewhere before."

"Someone call security already! How can they just let anyone in? Emily Blair has no business being here. If Kevin Lane sees her, who knows what'll happen."

The courtyard fell quiet, making the whispers stand out all the more.

As Emily Blair and Tristan Davis drew closer, every word of gossip reached them loud and clear.

Tristan's expression darkened.

He'd known that Emily's place in the Lane family was awkward at best, but he hadn't realized the lengths people would go to, gossiping about her right to her face.

If they could say such things openly, what else might they do behind her back? If things were this bad after all these years, what must it have been like for Emily when she was just an ordinary high school kid? It could only have been worse, lonelier, and even crueller.

The thought made Tristan's jaw clench. Anger simmered in his chest, and he had to resist the urge to march over and slap some sense into every one of them.

Emily, meanwhile, had long since grown numb to this kind of hostility.

It was no secret that Kevin, Andrew, and the rest of the Lane family had never liked her. The Lanes were at the top of the social ladder in Riven, and everyone else was desperate to curry favor-willing to do whatever it took to show their loyalty.

That meant treating the Lane's unwanted foster daughter with open disdain, always searching for ways to humiliate or belittle her.

Emily had heard it all before.

Now, after all these years, the words barely registered. The outrage and anxiety they once provoked had faded, replaced by a faint, amused detachment. She almost wanted to laugh.

All this time, and these people still hadn't changed. Same old insults, recycled over and over.

She couldn't help but wonder what the Lanes had given them to earn such loyal sycophancy.

Emily and Tristan walked on, and she lifted her chin with a soft laugh. “Well, it's been a while, hasn't it?" she greeted the group.

The men and women exchanged glances, their mutual discomfort and contempt plain in their eyes.

No one replied. Her words seemed to fall flat, met with stubborn silence.

Emily didn't mind. She was savoring the sight of all those sour faces.

Once, their scorn would have stung. But now, seeing how her mere presence could

their day, she felt an unexpected sense of satisf ion.

She hadn't realized she could have such an effect on them.

Tristan, however, was not so composed.

"Emily, why didn't you warn me everyone here was deaf and mute? I could've learned some sign language beforehand, rather than risk being rude," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Emily? There it was again-Emily.

She rolled her eyes at Tristan's jab but caught on to his meaning right away.

He hadn't lost his sharp tongue.

"My mistake," she said lightly, "I should have warned you."

She glanced up at him, and the sight made her blink. Tristan's scowl had deepened

to something almost dangerous; his eyes fairly blazed with anger, as though he

might snap and take a swing at someone at any moment.

She tugged at his sleeve, murmuring, "Let it go. They're not worth it."

He frowned and replied quietly, “I know. I just can't stand seeing them treat you like this."

Emily pressed her lips together.

Suddenly, one of the group snapped, “Emily Blair, what's your problem?"

Emily widened her eyes in mock surprise. "Oh! You do know how to speak. For a second, I thought something terrible had happened to you over these years, and you'd lost your voice."

The man sneered. "Real funny. I'll call security right now. Let's see how smug you are when they throw you out."

Emily smiled serenely. "Go ahead. Make the call."

She wasn't worried. She'd been invited to this party by the host themselves. If anyone ought to be nervous about her being "thrown out," it was these idiots making

a scene.

The man pulled out his phone, but just as he unlocked the screen, a woman's shrill voice cut through the crowd.

"Jeffrey Cox, don't!"

Jeffrey Cox scowled, phone in hand. "What's your problem?"

Emily turned to look. A young woman was standing there, phone clutched in her

hand, her face pale as she glanced up from the screen. Surprise, anxiety, jealousy —so many feelings flickered in her eyes.

Emily could guess what had unsettled her, but she only smiled faintly.

The woman bit her lip. "Don't call them. That's Emily Blair."

Jeffrey Cox frowned, exasperated. "I know who she is."

"No, listen. She's Emily Blair."

He let out a sigh. "I said, I know—"

The woman's voice rose, tense and urgent. "She's Emily Blair from Vertex International!"