Chapter 3
Once again, my mom gave me her usual warning. "Luna, guests here are all important. Behave yourself, find a corner to sit in, and don't wander around."
She stared at my face, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.
Honestly, I looked way more like her than Isabella did, and I was even better looking. But...
She handed me a shabby, old-fashioned gray dress, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"And don't wear anything too bright. You don't want to steal Isabella's thunder. Remember, tonight's all about Lucas and Isabella."
I looked at myself in the mirror, wrapped up in those dull colors, like a ghost about to attend a funeral.
I replied calmly, "Got it, Mom."
Resistance was pointless.
In this family, I'd long since learned to just go along with things.
The dinner party was in full swing, with people dressed to the nines, glasses clinking, and chatter everywhere.
Lucas stood on stage in a custom-tailored suit, speaking with confidence and charisma, drawing applause with every word.
Isabella, meanwhile, was dressed in a dazzling red gown, like a blazing flame that drew everyone's eyes.
Her painting, which she'd never picked up a paintbrush for, was hyped up by the host like it was the next big thing.
In the end, one of Dad's business partners snapped it up for 150 thousand dollars, earning her a round of applause from everyone in the room.
Isabella clung to Dad's arm, grinning like she owned the place.
I sat tucked away in the most inconspicuous corner, quietly sipping my juice, feeling like a spectator on the sidelines, just watching their wild celebration unfold.
Just then, a commotion broke out at the entrance of the room.
The most influential figure in the city's high society, Ethan Grant, the head of Grant Group, had arrived.
He was dressed in a black suit, his vibe aloof and cold, like he was completely out of place in all this festive chaos.
As soon as Ethan walked in, Dad made a beeline for him with Lucas and Isabella in tow, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile.
"Mr. Grant, having you here tonight really lights up this whole place!" Dad gushed, almost bowing.
Ethan just gave a slight nod, his gaze drifting over the crowd. Those deep, unfathomable eyes showed not a flicker of emotion.
He clearly had zero interest in the Ford family's obvious attempts to curry favor.
The auction went on.
"Now, this next item is something special," the host announced as he stepped onto the stage.
As the host took the stage, a painting flashed onto the big screen behind him.
The whole painting was dark and heavy, except for a dandelion bathed in light, bursting with so much life it felt like it might leap right out of the frame.
The title of the painting was "Luna."
I couldn't take my eyes off the painting, staring wide-eyed.
That was my work. I'd donated it anonymously through a top gallery.
I never thought it would show up at my family's party.
My palms were slick with sweat, my heart racing.
The host announced, "Up next is a painting called 'Luna,' created by an anonymous artist who goes by Echo. The starting bid is 30 thousand dollars."
As soon as the host finished, Isabella snickered and leaned over to the socialite beside her. "Echo? Never heard of that."
She rolled her eyes. "Where did this hack artist crawl out from, thinking she can bring her painting to a place like this? Just look at it. What a mess. It's practically an insult to our eyes."
Lucas wrinkled his brow. "The composition and vibe are so petty and small-time. Not worth showing at an event like this."
My parents didn't even bother to look at it.
In their eyes, a painting by some unknown artist with such a dark, moody style didn't even deserve a spot at their meticulously planned party.
Just as expected, after the host called out the starting price, the room fell into an awkward silence. No one raised a paddle.