Chapter 190
Chapter 190:
Suddenly, the main ballroom doors swung open with a heavy, resonant thud.
The Herald announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Yates. And Miss Harper Yates p>
Heads turned. The Yates family was political royalty. Old money. Power. They rarely attended these functions.
Harper Yates strode into the room. She was wearing a dress that defied the conservative dress code—a bold, architectural piece in crimson that looked like modern armor. She looked fierce. She looked bored.
Vivian, seeing an opportunity to regain status, rushed forward. She knew the Yates family was the pinnacle of the social ladder. If she could be seen with Harper, she could salvage the night.
“Harper!” Vivian called out, extending her hand. “So glad you could make it! We were just p>
Harper didn’t even blink. She looked right through Vivian. She didn’t slow down. She didn’t acknowledge the extended hand. She treated Vivian Kensington with the absolute indifference one reserves for a piece of lint.
Vivian was left standing there, hand in the air, grasping at nothing. The “cut direct.” The ultimate social insult.
Harper scanned the room. Her eyes landed on the circle of pastel sharks surrounding the figure in blue velvet.
Harper’s face changed. The boredom vanished. A wicked grin spread across her lips.
“Aurora p>
She picked up her pace, ignoring the gasps of the dignified crowd. She pushed past a waiter. She shoved Blair aside with her shoulder.
“Finally decided to burn the place down?” Harper asked, throwing her arms around Aurora. “I’ve been waiting for you to put on the war paint p>
Step into a new world at gαℓησν𝒆ℓs․cøm
The hug was tight. It was the embrace of a co-conspirator.
Aurora relaxed into the hug, whispering so only Harper could hear. “You’re late. I almost had to start the fire without you p>
“Traffic was murder,” Harper whispered back. “But I wouldn’t miss the show for the world p>
She pulled back, glaring at the debutantes. “Blair. Tiffany. Are you bothering my friend p>
The color drained from Blair’s face. “Friend? We… we were just welcoming her p>
“It didn’t look like a welcome,” Harper said, her voice dropping an octave. “It looked like you were blocking her light. Move p>
The girls scattered like roaches when the lights turn on. They were terrified of the Yates influence.
Mr. and Mrs. Yates approached. They were dignified, powerful people.
“Aurora, dear,” Mrs. Yates said warmly, taking Aurora’s hand. “We missed your advice on the foundation board. Harper has been lost without you p>
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Yates,” Aurora said, dipping her head respectfully.
The room watched in stunned silence. The “trailer park girl” wasn’t just tolerated by the Yates family; she was valued. She was an insider.
Vivian watched from the sidelines, her narrative crumbling into dust. She had painted Aurora as a nobody. The Yates family had just painted her as a VIP.
Sebastian Kensington, standing near the bar, frowned. He looked at Vivian, then at Aurora. He was confused. Vivian had told him Aurora was trash. But trash doesn’t get hugged by Harper Yates.