Chapter 432

Time slipped through our fingers like sand, and suddenly it was the evening of Monarch Grand Hotels' prestigious charity jewelry auction.

With Éclat magazine's involvement, the event had become the talk of Crestview without Monarch Group needing to lift a finger for promotion.

Éclat wasn't just any fashion publication - it was the holy grail that Hollywood royalty fought tooth and nail to appear in.

The red carpet outside the hotel pulsed with energy and flashing cameras.

A-listers gracefully navigated the screaming crowds, pausing just long enough for photographs before security whisked them inside.

When a sleek black limousine pulled up, the crowd's murmurs crescendoed into excited whispers.

The door swung open to reveal Penelope Whitmore and Cassandra Blackwood, draped in couture gowns that probably cost more than most people's annual salaries.

While other socialites discreetly used private entrances, these two thrived on public attention like moths to a flame.

"Look! Isn't that Victoria Sterling's aunt?"

Penelope's perfectly botoxed face twisted at the shouted question cutting through the crowd.

She'd spent years meticulously crafting her image as the respectable wife of Blackwood Industries' chairman, desperate to bury her scandalous past as a gold-digging mistress.

Yet here she was, still being reduced to "that notorious niece's aunt" because of Victoria's antics.

The title tasted like vinegar, bitter and unwanted.

"Oh my god, it is her!" another voice chimed in.

"Didn't she get arrested for bribery or something shady with city contracts?"

"Totally! But money talks, right? She walked free while regular folks would still be rotting in jail."

"That mugshot's still floating around online. The audacity to show her face in public!"

"Honestly, Leonard should keep his wife on a shorter leash."

"I'll never forget Victoria's birthday fiasco. Penelope was bragging about her perfect niece right before Victoria had her very public meltdown. Karma's a bitch!"

Penelope's stiletto-clad feet turned to lead. Only Cassandra's vice-like grip on her elbow kept her moving forward.

She'd truly believed those skeletons were safely locked away.

But Victoria's nuclear-level scandal had resurrected every buried shame.

Under a hail of snickers and camera flashes, the two women scurried into the hotel like rats escaping daylight.

"Maybe we should've used the private entrance, Mother," Cassandra hissed through a frozen smile. "Now I have to endure the humiliation by association."

"Excuse me?" Penelope's manicured nails dug into her daughter's arm. "After everything I sacrificed to give you this life? I endured public scorn while pregnant with you just to secure your position! Without my perseverance, you'd be nobody!"

The venom in her whisper made Cassandra flinch. "This is the thanks I get? An ungrateful child embarrassed by her own mother?"