Chapter 1 - The Cruel Joke
"Well, at least Clare accomplished something useful tonight."
Wesley Harkort stood up, raising his expensive champagne glass. The low hum of conversation at the VIP table instantly stopped. He smiled cruelly, his eyes completely devoid of human decency.
"You kept Vitali from walking into the furniture," Wesley announced loudly, ensuring the surrounding tables could hear him perfectly.
The laughter that followed wasn't polite. It was nervous, suffocating, and dripping with high-society malice.
My stomach twisted violently. My hands shook under the pristine white tablecloth. My name is Clare Donnelly, and I had never felt so painfully, completely out of place in my entire life.
The luxury charity gala was being held at the most expensive hotel in Minneapolis. Massive crystal chandeliers hung above hundreds of elite guests wearing custom designer gowns, diamond necklaces, and watches worth far more than my yearly salary.
I had saved for weeks just to buy my simple navy dress from a department store. It was beautiful to me. But to the socialites sitting at Table 4, it was a target.
"Department store?" Blair Kensington had whispered loudly to Wesley the second I walked into the ballroom. They had both giggled.
I had pretended not to hear them. I had learned long ago that some people could make you feel incredibly small without ever raising their voices. But they weren't satisfied with just mocking my dress. They wanted a show.
So, they secretly switched the place cards.
They moved my seat so I would be trapped beside Leandro Vitali. The scarred, terrifying man no one in the city dared to look at.
I turned toward Wesley, my voice trembling but firm. "That's enough."
But before I could say another word, a heavy, expensive wooden chair violently scraped against the marble floor right next to me.
May you like
Leandro stood up.
👉 The laughter in the room instantly died, and the monsters at the table were about to realize who they had just insulted.
