Chapter 22

Chapter 22:

The woman stared at me, then snatched the juice. “Thanks, Miss Vance p>

“No worries,” I said, smirking as I grabbed Yvaine’s arm and pulled her away.

Behind us, the chatter faded.

Yvaine hissed, “Your stare just turned her skin fifty shades darker p>

I chuckled. “I know their type. Quick to talk behind your back, but frozen when you look them in the eye—especially in public p>

We drifted toward the dessert tables—two twenty-meter feasts of cakes and champagne. With no threat of juice sabotage, I snagged a mini éclair and shoved it in my mouth.

The gossiping ladies lingered nearby, their eyes darting between us and their empty glasses. Wisely, they shifted focus and moved on to the Laurent family’s heir.

“A few years ago, the Laurents didn’t even acknowledge that grandson of theirs. Didn’t give him a single share. Nothing p>

“And yet he went overseas and built his own company. Bigger than Laurent Global Holdings, from what I’ve heard p>

“Yeah, and I heard Edouard Laurent got seriously ill some years back, and LGH started to struggle. No one in the family had the skills to save it, so suddenly the prodigal grandson wasn’t so useless anymore p>

“They dragged him back thinking he’d work for free. Do them a favor. What they didn’t expect was for the young Mr. Laurent to quietly take control of the whole thing p>

“My husband says he’s now the actual boss of LGH p>

“Not that he needs it. His own company makes LGH look like a roadside lemonade stand p>

“Maybe that’s what the family’s worried about, that he doesn’t need them. That’s why the party p>

“What do you mean p>

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“Haven’t you heard? This party is the Laurents’ way of making it clear that he’s family now. Making it official, you know. So people will stop calling him a bastard child p>

I gave Yvaine a questioning look.

As expected, she knew more than the Gossip Ladies and dished the dirt.

“Young Mr. Laurent wasn’t always a Laurent. Rumor has it he was sort of pushed aside as a kid. His mom died when he was a teenager, his dad remarried. The rest of the family treated him like trash, sent him off with a suitcase and a pat on the back. But now they need him to bail out the company. That’s why all the ceremony p>

I picked up a lemon tart. His story hit close to home. “He must’ve been ruthless to claw his way to the top p>

Yvaine nodded. “He must be. Though I haven’t met him yet. That’s what everyone’s here for p>

We made our way to a corner sofa. Laughter stopped me mid-stride.

A ring of young women surrounded a familiar face—Violet Lin. She hadn’t noticed me yet.

“I swear,” Violet was boasting, “that necklace sold out weeks ago. You’d need an advance on your inheritance to get one now p>

“Is it really the same necklace Eliza Black wore on the red carpet?” one girl murmured.

“It’s so nice! And only thirty grand,” another cooed. “I’d kill for one.” Violet lifted her chin, basking in their admiration.

I stared at the necklace she was wearing. Just yesterday, she’d dismissed this piece. Now she was wearing it like the crown jewels.

“I’ve been buried at Nyx Collective,” Violet pretended to complain. “Thank God my boss gave me leave for this party p>

Someone perked up. “You work there? Then you know who designed this?” Violet’s grin faltered, then turned smug again. “Yes, I’m a designer at Nyx p>

“So you made this?” the girl pressed, eyes bright.

Violet hesitated, then nodded.

They crowded in, eager for a better look at the “must-have” accessory.

“That’s nonsense! That’s Mira’s design,” Yvaine snapped. “You had nothing to do with it p>

Silence swept over the marble hall. Everyone stared. Heads turned.

When she saw me, Violet paled so much her mascara looked ready to run. Her proud smile faded. She jabbed a polished finger at me. “Mirabelle Vance, this isn’t your crowd. How did you get in? Did you sneak in or fake an invite p>

Before I could respond, Yvaine whipped two crisp envelopes from her clutch and slapped them into Violet’s palm.

“Official Laurent invite,” she said. “Addressed to Mira and me. Where’s yours p>

“My what?” Violet kept staring at me.

“Your invite p>

“It’s… in my purse p>

“Care to show it p>

“Why p>

“Just humor me.” Yvaine shrugged. “Unless you don’t have one p>

Violet reached into her purse but left her hand there.

Yvaine crossed her arms. “I’m waiting p>

“I must have… misplaced it p>

“Or you don’t have one. You came as someone’s plus one, didn’t you? Or did you sneak in through the back door p>

The whole hall fell silent. Violet’s cheeks burned.

I winced a little. As much as I wasn’t a Violet fan, even I had to admit, watching her get roasted by Yvaine in front of so many people was… brutal.

Still, I wasn’t about to help her.

I said to Violet, “I know exactly why you tried to accuse us of crashing. You thought if you got us thrown out, no one could prove you didn’t design that necklace p>

The crowd pressed in.

Violet bristled. “I did design it.” She clutched her phone. “I’ve got the original drafts to prove it. You’re not stealing my work p>

My eyes narrowed. She could be bluffing, or she might really have the drafts.

As another Nyx Collective designer, Violet had access to other people’s drafts. And Savannah had said she wanted to use my necklace sketch as an example for a studio class.

Maybe I’d underestimated Violet. I hadn’t thought she’d save a copy on her phone. Had she planned something like this all along? She held up her phone. “Look! I’ve got the drafts right here p>

A cluster of guests leaned in. One look at her screen and their suspicion shifted.

Suddenly, I was the villain of the party.

Violet’s smugness filled the air like cheap perfume.

I didn’t react. I just waited.

Waited until she’d shoved her screen under every nose within ten feet. Then I said, “Good thing you showed everyone. Saved me the trouble p>

Her hand wavered. “What do you mean p>

I said to one of the girls inspecting the drafts, “Why don’t you zoom in? Check the engraving on those tiny diamonds p>