The champagne fountain shimmered beneath a crystal chandelier as I stepped into the grand ballroom of Riverside Country Club. I had chosen a simple navy dress—nothing extravagant, just something appropriate for the charity gala I had been invited to attend. The invitation came through my investment firm’s community outreach program, and I had been looking forward to a quiet evening supporting local causes.
I should have known peace wouldn’t last the moment my family got involved.
“What are you doing here?”
My sister Victoria’s voice sliced through the soft music, sharp and unmistakable. She stood near the registration table in a glittering silver gown that likely cost more than most people earn in a month, gripping her champagne flute tightly enough to make me think it might crack.
“Hello, Victoria,” I replied evenly. “I was invited to the gala.”
“Invited?” she scoffed, letting out a cold laugh. “By who? The catering staff?”
Behind her, a group of women from her circle exchanged amused looks, their quiet laughter carrying just enough to make their judgment clear. To them, my presence was something absurd.
“I do have an invitation,” I said, reaching calmly into my clutch.
“Oh, I’m sure you do,” she stepped closer, her perfume heavy in the air. “Probably printed it yourself at whatever little office job you pretend is a career. This is a $5,000-per-plate event, Maya. Do you even understand that?”
I understood it perfectly.
I knew exactly what it meant—because I had been the one to approve the pricing when the club’s board consulted me about the fundraiser.
But I didn’t say a word.
I simply stood there, a faint smile on my face.
“Victoria, darling.”
Our mother’s voice carried across the room as she approached, elegant and composed in a deep burgundy gown, diamonds catching the light at her throat.