Chapter 14: The Invitation
Three days later, an envelope arrived at my office.
Cream paper. Gold trim. No return address.
Inside was a handwritten invitation.
You are cordially invited to the Whitmore Foundation Charity Gala. Saturday, 8 PM, The Grand Ballroom. Black tie. Please RSVP.
I stared at it.
The Whitmore Foundation didn't exist anymore.
I'd dissolved it.
Which meant someone else was hosting.
I called Rosa.
"Did you send me a fake invitation?"
"What? No."
"Someone's throwing a gala under my old foundation's name."
"That's... weird."
"More than weird. It's illegal."
"Who's hosting?"
I checked the bottom of the card.
A. Whitmore.
I read it again.
A. Whitmore.
"He's using my old foundation to throw himself a party?"
"Looks like it."
"And he invited me?"
"Maybe he wants to apologize."
"Or maybe he wants to humiliate me."
"Mariana, you own everything. What could he possibly do to humiliate you?"
I didn't have an answer.
But I knew one thing.
I wasn't going.
Except I did go.
Because I was curious.
Because I wanted to see what he was up to.
Because a small, stupid part of me still wanted to believe he could change.
Rosa came with me.
We walked into the ballroom.
The chandeliers glittered. The champagne flowed. The guests smiled.
And there, at the center of it all, stood Andrew.
He was wearing a tailored suit.
He looked healthy. Confident. Like nothing had happened.
And beside him stood a woman I didn't recognize.
May you like
She was young. Beautiful. Blonde.
And she was wearing my emerald necklace.
