My mother’s hand squeezed my wrist so hard her manicured nails nearly bit into my skin, but I didn't wince. I simply looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the panic breaking through her carefully painted mask.

Three days later, the annual Chicago Winter Gala was held at the Art Institute—the undisputed pinnacle of the city’s social calendar.

Despite the scandal surrounding the Hart and Moretti families, or perhaps precisely because of it, attendance was at an all-time high. Everyone wanted to see the blood in the water.

When Nikolai and I arrived, the paparazzi cameras exploded in a blinding storm of white flashes. I wore a backless, emerald green silk gown that clung to every curve, paired with emerald and diamond earrings that Nikolai had delivered to my suite that morning. I was no longer the quiet, modest Evelyn who hid in the shadows to let Serena shine. Tonight, I was striking.

As we glided into the grand hall, conversations died instantly. Whispers rippled through the elite crowds like shockwaves.

"Look at her..." "Is that really Evelyn?" "She looks... incredible. And terrifying."

Nikolai kept his hand lightly resting on the small of my back, his presence a dark, protective aura. "You are turning heads, Evelyn."

"I intend to do more than turn them," I replied smoothly, taking a champagne glass from a passing waiter's tray. "I intend to make them bow."

At the far side of the room, near the ice sculptures, I spotted my family. Serena was wearing a pale pink lace dress, looking fragile and teary-eyed, surrounded by a group of high-society women who were awkwardly trying to offer her comfort. Julian was nowhere to be seen—likely hiding from the shame of his council suspension.

When Serena saw me, her eyes hardened for a fraction of a second before she expertly morphed her expression into one of deep, heartbreaking sorrow. She whispered something to my mother, pulled away from the group, and walked straight toward me.

"Evelyn," Serena whimpered as she approached, her voice loud enough to attract the attention of nearby guests. "Please... can we talk? Just the two of us?"

Nikolai shifted slightly, but I subtly touched his arm, signaling him to let it happen. "It's fine, Nikolai. Give us a moment."

Nikolai eyed Serena with cold disdain before nodding. "I will be with the mayor near the balcony. Call me if you need me to remove trash."

Once Nikolai walked away, Serena stepped closer, her teary eyes instantly drying up, replaced by a venomous sneer.

"You think you’re so smart, don't you?" Serena spat under her breath, her voice dropping all pretense of innocence. "You stole Nikolai just to get back at me!"

"I didn't steal anyone, Serena," I said calmly, sipping my champagne. "Julian threw me away. Nikolai offered me a kingdom. I simply recognized a better business deal."

"Julian loves me!" Serena hissed, taking a step closer, her knuckles white as she squeezed her glass. "He never loved you! You were just his boring, dutiful secretary! He used to laugh at how desperate you were to please him!"

The words were meant to sting, to trigger the old, insecure Evelyn who spent years aching for affection. But looking at Serena now, I realized how pathetic she truly was. She was a leech who fed on other people's validation.

"If he loved you so much, Serena," I said softly, leaning in so only she could hear, "why is he currently facing federal fraud charges while you're wearing a dress bought with stolen money? He didn't choose you out of love. He chose you because you were easy to manipulate."

Serena’s face contorted in pure, unadulterated fury. "You bitch!"

In a flash of hysterical rage, Serena raised her glass of red wine, intending to splash it all over my emerald dress in front of the entire room to create a scene and frame me as the aggressor.

But I was faster.

Years of fixing her messes had taught me to predict her every move. Before she could tip the glass, I grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, twisting it just enough to redirect the trajectory.

The heavy cabernet spilled completely over Serena's pristine, pale pink dress, drenching her chest and skirt in a dark, blood-red stain.

Serena gasped, dropping her glass, which shattered on the marble floor. "Aaah! My dress!"

She immediately dropped to the floor, bursting into dramatic, hysterical sob-filled tears, looking around at the gathered crowd. "Evelyn! Why did you do that?! I only came to apologize! Why do you hate me so much?!"

My mother rushed over from across the room, gasping in horror. "Evelyn! Look at what you did to your sister! You monster!"

The surrounding crowd whispered in shock, eyes darting between me standing tall and serene, and Serena crying on the floor.

Before my mother could reach us, Nikolai appeared at my side. He didn't look at Serena. He didn't look at my mother. He pulled a pristine white silk handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped a tiny drop of red wine that had splashed onto my hand.

"Are you unharmed, darling?" Nikolai asked softly, his voice echoing in the silent hall.

"I'm perfectly fine," I replied calmly.

Nikolai turned his terrifying gray eyes onto the hotel manager, who was sprinting toward us with security guards.

"Manager," Nikolai said, his voice dropping like an anvil. "This woman just attempted to physically assault my fiancée and disrupted this event. Remove her and her mother from the premises immediately."

"What?!" my mother shrieked. "We are the Harts! You can't throw us out!"

"I own forty percent of this hotel, Mrs. Hart," Nikolai said coldly. "And starting tonight, you, your husband, and your younger daughter are officially barred from every property, venue, and establishment affiliated with the Moretti name."

The security team didn't hesitate. They stepped in, taking Serena and my mother by the arms and escorting them out through the main hall as Serena wailed in humiliation.

I watched them leave, feeling no regret, no guilt, only a strange, profound sense of liberation.