energy of a high-society charity gala. Chandeliers dripped crystals, ch

ast four weeks in a whirlwind of legalities, board meetings, and cautious introductions. My father, Robert Sterlin

n murmured, his eyes warm as the

enuine smile touching my lips. It was still new, this ease between u

I saw

to his arm. Tiff was poured into a red sequined dress that screamed for attention, her expression a mixture of triump

ng on me. A smirk played on his lips

d unfortunately known for years, trailed in t

enough to turn heads. "Aurora. And... Ethan, is i

darling, don't be mean." She looked at me, her eyes gli

Chad, chimed in. "Yeah, Rory, surprised to see you ou

how some sign of devastation. They didn'

smile. "Pres. Tiffany. Ch

le them. Pres' s smirk falter

bidding outrageously on everything – a week on a private island, a garish diamond necklace, a sports

t lot – a hideous modern sculpture – he

ndescension. "Be a dear and settle these for me, wil

ughter. The implication was clear: he bel

I said, my voice calm and carrying in the suddenly quieted s

rise went throug

arkened. "What

as this." I gestured to a discreetly wrapped box held by a gala attendan

ooked momentarily surpri

declaration of Ethan as my husband with such casual

. "You think this... this architect is your

ing I did for you, after I was willing to dignify you with my name! You' re nothing without me

were openly staring, whispering. Tiff loo

nt of me, a protective gestur

ran through me. "You' re making a scene. Perhaps yo

n't over, Rory. You' ll r

roughly, and stormed away, his cronies s

he left behi

my hand. "Are

hadn't realized I was holding. The storm

ed shifted. He just didn'