Felicity’s voice rang out above the hum of conversation, sharp and commanding enough to draw every eye in the banquet hall.
She didn’t hesitate to call Selene out, her tone ringing with accusation. “Selene! How could you sneak in here with a fake invitation? You’re making the Thompson
family a laughingstock!”
A man Felicity had addressed as Daniel strode forward, tablet in hand.
“Ma’am, your name isn’t on the guest list,” he said, his tone brisk and unyielding. “I’ll have to ask you to leave. Now.”
Around them, the other guests watched with open curiosity, eager for drama.
Selene turned to Daniel, her expression calm. “And you are?”
“I’m the manager of this venue,” he replied, holding up his tablet as if it were a badge of authority. “You’re not on my guest list, Selene. If you don’t leave on your own, I’ll have security escort you out.”
Selene remained composed. “I’m not a regular guest. I’m here as a special invitee. If your list only covers company affiliates, it’s no surprise my name isn’t there.”
The manager let out a mocking laugh. “If you’re not on the list, you don’t belong here. Simple as that.”
He gave a pointed nod to two waiters, who immediately moved to stand behind
Selene.
“Ma’am, please come with us,” one of them said, tone polite but firm. “If you refuse, we’ll have to remove you by force.”
The other echoed the warning, both clearly under orders.
Gemma, lips curled in a smug smile, added fuel to the fire. “There are reporters swarming outside. Toss her out now, and she’ll be the talk of the whole city!” Her voice was syrupy sweet, feigning concern.
“Or perhaps,” she said, folding her hands primly, “we should let her stay. Selene, just grab a tray and serve us like the rest of the staff.”
A woman brazen enough to divorce Harrison, walk away with a Vaughn heir, and change the little girl’s last name–such rebellion was scandalous.
The matriarch seized the moment, determined to remind Selene that, outside the
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Vaughn family, she was nothing but the hired help. Tonight, the old woman had deigned to let her work the banquet–carrying trays was a privilege compared to being thrown out by security.
Selene’s wrist flicked, sending the sparkling wine swirling in her glass. Her gaze drifted, landing briefly on Harrison.
He stiffened, a shadow crossing his face. Was Selene looking to him for help?
Felicity nodded, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Ah, Daniel, maybe don’t throw Selene out just yet.”
She pretended to plead Selene’s case. “See how generous the matriarch is? Most of the servers here are barely out of college, and she’s letting you stay. You should be grateful.”
The hotel manager hesitated, uncertain. “This really isn’t standard procedure…
“Let her stay,” Harrison said, his voice cutting through the tension.
Felicity’s smirk deepened, her eyes shining with malicious delight.
“Selene, take a tray and stand beside the matriarch. Serve her well tonight, and you might just avoid being thrown out.”
Normally, the matriarch had no patience for Felicity, but right now, her words were music to the old woman’s ears.
Lifting her wineglass, the matriarch cast Selene a frosty, mocking glance. “Events like this are out of your league. You’ll never fit in, so stop trying. Understand?”
Selene flashed a smile. “My mistake–clearly I mistook you for someone worth respecting. Since you enjoy being waited on so much, let’s hope there’s always someone to feed you and wheel you around in the future.”
“You’re cursing me?” The old woman puffed up in outrage, eyes bulging like an angry toad as she glared at Selene.
“Miss Thompson!”
