Chapter 189
Chapter 189:
“Welcome home,” the Matriarch whispered, her eyes misting.
Aurora felt a lump in her throat. For a second, just a second, she wanted to lean into that hand. To be the granddaughter. But she knew better. This was a battlefield, not a nursery.
“Thank you, Grandmother,” Aurora said, loud enough for the room to hear.
Vivian turned and fled toward the terrace doors, unable to breathe.
Aurora watched her go. Then, she felt that burning sensation on her back again.
She turned.
Across the crowded room, over the heads of billionaires and senators, she locked eyes with Elias.
He raised his glass to her. A silent toast. His lips didn’t move, but she heard him as clearly as if he were whispering in her ear.
Check.
Vivian stood on the terrace, gripping the stone railing. The night air was cold, but her skin felt like it was on fire. Below her, the manicured gardens of the estate stretched out into the darkness, but all she could see was Aurora’s face. That pitying smile.
Lipstick on your teeth.
She let out a scream of frustration, but the sound was swallowed by the wind. She couldn’t lose. Not to her. Not to a girl who grew up in a trailer park while Vivian was taking ballet lessons in Paris.
She took a deep breath, smoothing her hair. She needed a new plan. The intellectual attack had failed. The social exclusion had backfired. She needed brute force.
She pulled out her phone and checked the guest list. Her eyes narrowed. There was a group of debutantes arriving late—girls from the fiercely exclusive Upper East Side circle, known for their cruelty and their pack mentality.
Vivian smiled. She typed a quick message. Target acquired. Blue velvet dress. Destroy her.
R𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝒇𝓾𝓁𝓁 𝒄𝒉𝓪𝓹𝓉𝓮𝓇𝓈 𝓪𝓽
She composed herself, put on her best fake smile, and walked back into the ballroom.
Inside, Aurora was standing near a pillar, momentarily alone. The Matriarch had tired and been wheeled away by nurses, leaving Aurora exposed.
The pack descended.
Three girls, all blonde, all wearing pastel dresses that cost more than a house, encircled her. They moved with the coordinated grace of sharks.
“So,” the ringleader, a girl named Blair, drawled. She looked Aurora up and down, wrinkling her nose. “You’re the cousin. The one from… where was it? The Bronx p>
“I hear the rats are the size of cats there,” the second girl giggled.
“Is it true you lived in a trailer?” the third asked, her voice loud enough to attract attention. “Like, with wheels p>
Aurora sipped her water. She looked at them. They were children. Mean, spoiled children weaponized by Vivian.
“It was an apartment,” Aurora said calmly. “And the rats were manageable. Unlike the pests in this room p>
Blair’s eyes widened. “Did you just call us pests p>
“I was talking about the draft,” Aurora said, looking at the open door. “But if the shoe fits p>
The girls bristled. They stepped closer, closing the circle. The social isolation was palpable. Guests were watching, waiting to see if the new girl would crack under the pressure of the “Mean Girls p>