The sitting room of the Fairchild estate was transformed into a lavish showroom. Rows of mannequins dressed in the finest haute couture stood like silent sentinels, displaying pieces from elite fashion houses—Mireille Couture, Enzo Royale, Haus of Faiza, and others flown in exclusively for the event.
Laughter and the clink of porcelain teacups echoed across the room as elegant young women draped themselves in silks, chiffons, and velvet, scrutinizing each other with smiling eyes full of envy and judgment.
"Darling, I just have to wear the Enzo number," cooed Madelena Dufour, her fingers dancing over a sheer emerald gown. "Father says green's the color of power this year."
"Power or poison?" chimed in Elise Vonderhoff, her voice laced with sugar and arsenic. "Because honestly, you'd look like a walking absinthe bottle."
The others giggled behind their gloves, watching the unspoken duels unfold between the rich and the restless.
Sasha sat at the head, smiling graciously while inwardly counting who wore what brand, and how many carats their earrings boasted. This was her arena. And she needed to shine.
But when Kimberly had insisted on inviting Ana, everything shifted.
"Why have l been seeing this girl everywhere? Who's she?" whispered one of the girls in emerald silk, tilting her head toward the entrance.
"I heard she's the rumored surrogate, The one Harry..." another began, only to be silenced by a sharp glance from Sasha.
The murmurs rose a notch when Ana arrived, late, escorted by her loyal companion Nina. She wore a baby pink dress that swayed gently with each step and her hair was styled in a simple braid down her back. She had no diamonds, no brand name shoes, and no bold makeup yet she glowed. There was something angelic about her presence that made even the sun seem to pause.
As she walked in, the air shifted. Conversations stalled. Forks were set down mid-air.
"She's… actually beautiful," one girl whispered, sounding annoyed by her own admission.
"She looks so... untouched by the world," another muttered, eyes narrowing. "Too clean. It's infuriating."
Across the table, Sasha stiffened. She saw their stares, heard their conflicting thoughts even through silence. Once, they competed for Harry's attention. Now they laughed bitterly, mocking her with their eyes. So this is the girl who stole the prince's favor? their expressions seemed to say.
Sasha bit her lip until it nearly bled and dropped her gaze to hide the storm building behind her eyes. Across the table, Trisha caught her wounded expression and instantly bristled. Her loyalty to Sasha burned like fuel.
"I'm sorry for being late," Ana said softly, bowing her head with graceful humility. "I hope I didn't inconvenience everyone."
Kimberly's hand shot up like a flag of welcome. "Ana, come sit beside me. I saved you a seat."
Trisha scoffed. "Do you think you're Miss Universe that we had to wait for you?"
Nina stepped forward protectively. "My miss hasn't been feeling well, so..."
"Shut up," Trisha snapped, her eyes sharp as glass. "Don't act like your mistress is some prized lady. She's just a low-class..."
"Trisha, that's enough," Kimberly interjected sharply, her voice cutting the air like a whip. She cast Ana an apologetic glance, but it only fueled Trisha's rage.
Trisha leaned back with a smirk. "Since you're so good at pretending to be noble, why don't you act like a proper servant and serve us this tea?"
Several of the ladies exchanged nervous glances, unsure how far Trisha would go this time. No one spoke. No one dared.
Nina gasped. "My miss is not a maid! She doesn't have to...."
Slap!
Trisha stood up with fury. "How dare you talk back to me, you filthy servant! You...three of you, hold her down!"
Three hesitant maids stood frozen. "Miss Trisha, please..."
"DO IT!" she barked, and that was enough.
The maids rushed toward Nina and pinned her down. The third raised her hand and
smack!
smack!
The sharp sound of skin against skin rang out. Nina swayed, dazed, her cheek swelling red.
Ana's eyes filled with unshed tears, but they weren't from fear. They were from fury. She moved quickly, faster than anyone expected. She caught the maid's hand midair and shoved her backward. The woman fell hard, landing on her bottom with a yelp.
Gasps rang out. Two more maids lunged, but Ana shoved them aside with a burst of strength born from rage. Nina collapsed into her arms, whimpering softly.
Ana turned to Trisha, her voice trembling not from weakness, but restraint. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Does your family's name give you the right to trample on people like dirt? Do you think cruelty makes you powerful?"
A stunned silence fell over the table. Even the wind paused to listen.
Trisha's face twisted in venom. "Ashamed?" she sneered. "You want to talk about shame? You're nothing but a gold-digging tramp! A shameless slut who spread her legs for money! A homewrecker who seduced someone else's husband!"
Her words struck like knives.
Before Ana could respond, Trisha seized a teacup and flung it. The hot liquid splashed across Ana's face and dress. Gasps erupted from every direction.
"TRISHA!" Kimberly screamed. "Enough!"
But Ana didn't flinch. She wiped the tea from her face and looked at Trisha, really looked. Her hand lifted slowly, and before anyone could stop her...
SLAP!
Trisha's head snapped to the side. Her hand flew to her cheek in disbelief. "You… you hit me?" Her voice trembled with rage.
Ana stepped closer, fire in her eyes. "That's for every maid you've slapped, for every cruel word you've ever thrown, and for thinking you can act like a monster without consequence."
Trisha screamed. "You bitch! I'll kill you!"
She lunged, grabbing Ana by the hair. But Ana didn't scream, she fought back. And she was stronger. Their expensive dresses tangled. Nails scratched. Hairpins flew.
"Stop them!" Sasha shrieked, finally breaking her frozen composure. "Someone, stop them!"
The noble ladies rose in a panic, their carefully curated elegance thrown into disarray by the chaos before them.
Just then, a towering guard stormed onto the scene. He yanked Trisha off Ana as though peeling a vine from a tree and flung her aside like discarded fabric. She landed with a loud thud, winded and stunned.
Ana stood over her, chest heaving, hair a mess, cheeks flushed with adrenaline.
One lady muttered, stunned, "She actually stood up to her…"
Another added, "I've never seen anyone slap Trisha and live to tell the tale."
Kimberly walked over, draped her shawl over Ana's shoulders, and whispered, "You did the right thing. Don't let them walk over you."
Ana didn't answer. Her gaze remained on Trisha, who glared up at her, red-cheeked and humiliated but something had changed.
The tea party had started as a show of class.
But now, no one was talking about handbags or heritage.
They were all looking at the girl who dared to slap back.