Chapter 3

The rest of the relatives trickled in. My parents walked in arm-in-arm, their faces lighting up when they saw me.

"Evelyn, have you said hello to everyone?"

I pointed at the crowd swarming the golden couple. "No one has time for me. Claire and Julian are back."

My parents' expressions darkened, but they kept quiet.

Julian and Claire had made a name for themselves. It was no surprise the social climbers in the family were trying to ride their coattails.

Kiss up to whoever has power, step on whoever doesn't.

As we approached the group, we could still hear them talking.

"Julian might have picked the wrong girl at first, but it led him straight to Claire. Destiny."

"Evelyn's just too rigid. All these years, and she hasn't even tried to mend fences. If she ever needs a favor, why would they help her?"

"Right? Why hold such a grudge? It just makes things awkward."

Claire wore her signature sweet smile, but the smug triumph in her eyes was impossible to hide.

She raised her wine glass toward me. "Evelyn, don't take it to heart. We're still family. If you ever need anything, I'll be there."

Julian scoffed. "You're an adult. It's time you learned how to network. We can open a few doors, but we won't clean up your messes."

My parents tensed with rage. I placed a calming hand on their arms and flashed a polite, empty smile.

"You're absolutely right."

I led my parents to our seats. Course after course of exquisite food arrived.

The relatives raised their glasses, begging Julian for stories of his rise to fame.

"The European art scene is so cutthroat. It must have been incredibly hard to stand out, Julian!"

Julian wrapped an arm around Claire, kissing her cheek.

"It was. But my wife stood by me every step of the way. Without her, I would have settled for some dead-end corporate job."

Claire gazed at him with sickening devotion. "It's because you're so talented, Julian. Your art speaks for itself."

"You two are the perfect match!"

"Honestly, Julian leaving Evelyn for Claire was the smartest move he ever made."

They took turns kissing up to them, dragging my name through the mud with every breath.

My mother leaned in, her eyes red with anger. "He sold a few overpriced paintings. What is he so arrogant about?"

"If they want to be together, fine. But why do they have to keep comparing themselves to you? Just wait until Adrian gets here. Watch how fast they break their necks trying to suck up to you."

At the mention of my fiancé, Adrian Mercer, a genuine smile touched my lips.

Everyone was so busy worshipping Julian they'd completely forgotten this dinner was supposed to be hosted by my parents, for me.

We didn't remind them. We just sat back and waited.

It wasn't until a waiter approached me to ask if we were ready for the champagne toast that the room finally remembered we were there.

Julian scanned the luxurious private dining room. This Midtown club was lined with authentic masterpieces, its clientele exclusively Wall Street titans and art world elites.

Even the crystal chandelier above us easily cost six figures.

He looked at me and sneered. "Evelyn, don't tell me you organized this dinner."

"On a doctor's salary? Can you even afford a slice of cake here?"