Chapter 361

"I warned you, Mother! I told you they weren't just friends!" Cassandra's voice trembled with barely contained fury. "Eleanor is deliberately sabotaging me!"

Her nails dug into her palms as she watched the scene unfold.

Julian had dressed Eleanor in an exquisite crimson gown that made her radiate even without makeup. The rich burgundy fabric perfectly matched Julian's tailored tuxedo, creating a striking visual harmony.

Under the dazzling chandeliers, they looked like royalty at their coronation. All guests' attention was magnetically drawn to the breathtaking pair.

Cassandra's violet dress suddenly felt garish and ill-fitting. The clashing colors screamed "mismatch" in the most humiliating way.

"Darling, I carried Eleanor for nine months." Penelope's voice carried the weight of experience. "That girl has the emotional intelligence of a child. She couldn't steal a candy bar, let alone a man."

Her words provided little comfort. Cassandra's chest burned with jealousy.

"You're missing the real issue," Penelope continued sharply. "Julian has never shown genuine interest in you. After your grandfather's birthday fiasco, he probably finds your advances repulsive."

A visible tremor ran through Cassandra's body.

"Now that he knows Eleanor is your sister," Penelope concluded coldly, "he's using her to punish you."

Cassandra's breath hitched. "So... I'll never become Mrs. Montgomery?"

"Stop being dramatic." Penelope's eyes gleamed with calculation. "Work with Isabelle. Change your approach. If Julian favors Eleanor, you must shower her with kindness. Make him see your compassionate side. Understood?"

"Fine," Cassandra spat through clenched teeth.

Meanwhile, Eleanor's entire being vibrated with anticipation about meeting Isabella Laurent. Her searching gaze swept across the ballroom until—

There.

On the grand piano stage.

Isabelle Montgomery.

Eleanor's blood turned to ice.

Her legs buckled beneath the weight of sudden memories.

Cruel laughter echoed in her mind.

"Who'd be friends with a retard like you?"

"Throw her in the dumpster where trash belongs!"

"Cut her hair! I hate girls with prettier hair than mine!"

"No wonder the Blackwoods despise you. Even your sister can't stand you. You're the family's shame."

On stage, Isabelle played a melancholic sonata, oblivious to the terrified eyes watching her.

Tears blurred Eleanor's vision as she clutched her teddy bear tighter. Cold sweat drenched her back as she stumbled backward.

"Eleanor?" Julian's concerned voice cut through her panic as he grasped her elbow. "I thought you wanted Isabella's autograph? Let's go meet her."

Instead of responding, Eleanor wrenched free and bolted for the exit like a hunted animal.

"Eleanor! Wait!" Julian's shout echoed through the hall as he gave chase.

The scene made Cassandra see red. Despite her mother's advice, she couldn't stomach Julian's obvious concern for "that imbecile."

Outside, Eleanor ran blindly into the night, tears streaming down her face.

Just minutes ago, she'd been giddy about meeting her idol. Isabella's films were her sanctuary—those strong heroines standing against injustice gave her courage during countless lonely nights.

Now?

She just needed to escape.

"You're unwanted baggage, loser!"

The taunts chased her like relentless ghosts.