"What a coincidence."
Sophia Sullivan's gaze locked onto the Chanel gown adorning Chloe Evans, her molars grinding in silent fury.
That couture piece should have been hers.
Her mother had chosen it as a wedding gift—until Chloe snatched it away.
Now Chloe wore it with dazzling radiance, stealing every spotlight in the room.
A deliberate provocation.
Sophia's fingers tightened around Liam Winston's sleeve, her eyes glistening.
Liam snapped out of his daze. "What's wrong?"
"Thinking of Mom," Sophia murmured, voice thick. "She bought me this Chanel dress as a wedding gift... but my sister took it."
Liam stiffened.
The humiliation at the luxury boutique resurfaced.
Yet his attention remained riveted on Sophia's hand resting casually on Ethan Sullivan's arm—her slender fingers draped over his black suit with effortless grace.
They stood together, an undeniable synergy between them.
Whispers swirled around them.
"Who's that with Mr. Sullivan? I thought he avoided women."
"That's Ms. Sullivan! The one who publicly rejected his courtship!"
"Didn't you see? He personally backed her at the Winston patriarch's birthday banquet."
"A perfect match."
The phrase "perfect match" stabbed Liam like a needle.
He stormed toward Sophia, face dark.
"Parading around in that dress—aren't you ashamed?" Disgust dripped from his tone.
"Sophia, was stealing Chloe's dress not enough? Now you flaunt it to spite me?"
Some part of him still believed she cared.
Why else would she wear it tonight?
Sophia laughed.
The sound was pure mockery.
"Does a single dress threaten you that much?"
Liam's face twisted.
She didn't even bother pretending anymore.
Was it because she stood as Ethan Sullivan's companion?
Jealousy devoured reason.
"Sophia, climbing the social ladder has changed you—"
A force slammed into his back.
Liam crashed face-first toward the dessert table.
Crash!
A cake nearly toppled onto his head.
He whirled around, livid.
"Have you lost your mind?!"
The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
A young man with wolf-cut hair sauntered forward—tall, sharp-eyed, radiating danger.
He crossed his arms, smirking.
"My hand slipped."
Liam's expression darkened.
Who was this punk?
Chloe rushed to steady Liam, tears welling on cue.
"Sophia, how could you let someone attack him? Liam only spoke the truth..."
Her voice trembled, the picture of vulnerability.
"You stole my dress to humiliate me, and now this?"
She expected outrage.
Instead, silence.
Every eye was fixed on the young man—with reverence.
A sycophant scurried forward.
"Young Master Lawrence, our CEO reserved a private suite. Would you honor us with your presence?"
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"The mayor's only son... His mother chairs a Fortune 500 company... You actually provoked him?"
Chloe froze.
The Lawrence family?
That untouchable dynasty?
Liam spotted the name "Ryan Lawrence" on the youth's badge—his stomach plummeted.
"Mr. Lawrence, this is all a misunderstanding..." He forced calm into his voice.
How did Sophia know Ryan Lawrence?
Impossible.