115 Whispers and a Cold Glance
115 Whispers and a Cold Glance
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
“Back off,” she snapped. “She’s not interested”
For a long, uncomfortable moment, we simply stared at each other across the crowded ballroom. The background noise seemed to fade away as our silent confrontation
stretched on.
Despite everything, I couldn’t help but smile at her fierce loyalty. “My knight in shining
Louboutins.”
Elara’s POV
Before I could respond, the sound of male laughter caught my attention. Two men stood behind a large floral arrangement, unaware we were on the other side.
After the auction debacle, I hadn’t wanted to attend another social event so soon. But Chloe insisted this charity gala would be good for networking. She was right, of course. Several potential investors for YodaVision were here tonight.
As if summoned by her name, I suddenly spotted her across the room. Vivienne Dubois stood near the entrance, stunning in a deep emerald gown that matched her newly acquired jewelry set. Several admirers surrounded her, hanging on her every word as she gesticulated elegantly, clearly in the middle of an entertaining story.
“Vivienne doesn’t make it easy for him either,” his friend chuckled. “She keeps him on his toes. Men like Damien need that challenge.”
“I’m serious, El. You’re brilliant! You helped develop one of the most sophisticated AI algorithms in the industry before you gave it up for that ungrateful-”
I took a step back. “Thank you, but-”
“I did,” I replied, my voice calmer than I felt.
“Now Vivienne,” Jorge continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “that woman is a firecracker. Smart, challenging, beautiful. You can see why Damien prefers her. The man has taste.”
“The hell it doesn’t!” Chloe hissed.
115 Whispers and a Cold Glance
I turned to find a man I didn’t recognize standing uncomfortably close. His breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes had trouble focusing on my face.
Then, deliberately, Vivienne’s eyes traveled from my face down to my simple black dress, then back up again. Her lips curled into a cold, disdainful smile that spoke volumes: You’re nothing compared to me.
The man – I recognized his voice now as Jorge Mendez, a business associate of Damien’s – let out a short laugh. “Not my type. She’s… boring. No personality. Just sits thère looking pretty but has nothing interesting to say.”
But I did care. That was the problem. After years of trying to be perfect for Damien— the perfect wife, mother, hostess–hearing I was considered boring cut deeper than I
wanted to admit.
“What about Elara Vance?” one of them asked.
“Damien Thorne’s wife?” the second man responded. “She’s pretty, I suppose, in that
quiet way.”
“Did you see that?” Chloe hissed.
Boring. No personality. The words echoed in my mind.
More laughter followed. I stood frozen, unable to move. Each word felt like a small cut.
For seven years, I had dimmed myself to fit into Damien’s world. I’d buried my intelligence, my passions, my opinions–all in a futile attempt to become what I thought he wanted. And in the end, it hadn’t been enough. I hadn’t been enough.
“Don’t,” I whispered, gripping her arm. “It doesn’t matter.”
I pulled her away from the arrangement before she could confront them. “They’re just being stupid men. I don’t care what they think.”
“And I’m just telling you to get lost before I call security,” Chloe replied, her voice dangerously low.
But as I approached Jenkins from StarTech Capital with Chloe by my side, I made a silent promise to myself: This was the last time I would allow anyone–Vivienne, Damien, or some random man at a party–to make me feel small.
“I’m Martin Hopkins,” he said, swaying slightly. “And you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
115 Whispers and a Cold Glance
Martin blinked, confused by the sudden obstacle. “I was just asking for a dance.”
“I know,” I interrupted softly. “But it’s fine. Really.”
“El, are you okay?” Chloe asked, her anger giving way to concern.
Chloe’s shoulders sagged. “This night is turnin to a disaster. First those jerks, now this drunk idiot.” She downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp. “Why are all the decent men gravitating toward women like Vivienne? It’s not fair.”
“I can’t believe this charity event is still going on,” Chloe complained, swirling her champagne. “Do they really need three hours to raise money for hungry children?”
Then, as if sensing our attention, Vivienne’s gaze drifted across the room until it locked with mine. Her animated expression froze momentarily. Something flashed in her eyes–recognition, then calculation.
“Let’s find that investor,” I said, forcing determination into my voice. “I didn’t spend two hours getting ready for this event just to let Vivienne ruin it.”
“She definitely heard those jerks talking about you. Look at how smug she is.”
Before I could respond, Chloe stepped between us, her five–foot–four frame somehow towering with righteous anger.
“Well, hello there, beautiful,” a slurred voice interrupted our conversation.
“Would you go for her? I heard they’re divorcing.”
Chloe didn’t believe me–I could see it in her eyes. But she knew me well enough not to push.
The satisfied smirk that spread across her face told me everything I needed to know. She had overheard Jorge’s comments. Of course she had. Vivienne never missed an opportunity to witness my humiliation.
It wasn’t fine, but what was the point of admitting that? The truth was, Jorge’s assessment wasn’t entirely wrong. I had dimmed my own light for so long that sometimes even I forgot it was there.
“There’s Jenkins from StarTech Capital,” Chloe whispered, nodding toward a balding man near the bar. “He’s been looking to invest in Al startups. I could introduce you.”
115 Whispers and a Cold Glance
Chloe was still fuming as we moved toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. “Those idiots wouldn’t know an interesting woman if she hit them with a physics textbook. Which I’m tempted to do.”
“Dance with me,” he insisted, reaching for my arm. “Just one dance.”
“Exactly! Why settle for vanilla when you can have the whole dessert cart?”
I froze at the sound of my name. Chloe’s eyes widened, and she grabbed my arm, clearly ready to pull me away. But curiosity kept my feet planted firmly on the marble floor.
As we moved through the crowd, I could feel Vivienne’s eyes tracking me. She was probably enjoying this, knowing I’d heard myself being unfavorably compared to her. Knowing that yet again, in the eyes of society, she had won.
The ballroom sparkled with crystal chandeliers and elegant decor. Women in designer gowns mingled with men in tailored suits. Soft classical music played in the background, barely audible over the constant hum of conversations.
The man scowled but retreated, muttering something about “stuck–up bitches” as he disappeared into the crowd.
Without a word, she turned away, tossing her perfect hair over one shoulder, and
continued her conversation as if I didn’t exist.
I nodded, taking a small sip from my glass. “At least the champagne is good.”
Chloe’s face had transformed from shock to rage. “Those absolute-
My cheeks burned. I’d met Jorge exactly twice at company events. We’d barely exchanged ten words.
“I’m fine.” The words came automatically, the same response I’d given countless times over the years when I was anything but fine.
Tomorrow, at the investor meeting, I would remind everyone, including myself, exactly who Elara Vance really was, And she was anything but boring.
“Speak of the devil,” Chloe muttered.
ent taunt affect me. But inside, my
I took a deep breath, refusing to let Vivienne’s stomach churned with a mixture of humiliation and anger.
