2

“Isn’t this supposed to be her house?”

The words were barely more than a whisper, yet sharp enough to cut through the soft hum of conversation in the ballroom. Zoey caught them as she passed by, a tray of appetizers balanced carefully in her hands, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Two women lingered near the buffet table, their eyes narrowing as they exchanged knowing glances.

For a moment, Zoey froze, feeling their gaze sweep over her, linger on her in a way that made her stomach tighten. Then their attention drifted to the center of the room, where Caleb and Linda stood hand in hand, framed by the glittering chandelier above them. They looked effortless, untouchable—the perfect picture of the night’s focal point.

Zoey’s fingers clenched around the edges of the tray, the porcelain threatening to slip beneath her grip. She had spent the better part of the day orchestrating every last detail of the evening—from the perfectly aligned centerpieces to the meticulously curated playlist—and yet, it seemed as though her presence, her labor, barely registered with anyone.

Instead, the room’s eyes were glued to Linda, the supposed jewel of the night, as if she alone deserved the admiration and whispers. Zoey drew in a steadying breath, forcing herself to lift her chin, to maintain the calm poise she had cultivated through years of practice, even as a small, bitter pulse of irritation flared beneath her ribs.

It wasn’t just unfair—it was infuriating.

“Zoey!” Linda’s high-pitched voice sliced through the air, silencing the murmurs.

Zoey turned, her steps measured, as she walked toward the couple. Linda’s smile was sweet, but her tone was anything but.

“Could you be a dear and let the staff know the dessert service is taking too long? It’s terribly embarrassing for such a grand event, don’t you think?” Linda’s eyes glinted with mock concern.

Caleb said nothing, sipping his champagne, his eyes scanning the crowd as if his wife didn’t exist.

“I’ll see to it,” Zoey replied evenly, though the words tasted bitter on her tongue.

As she turned to leave, Linda’s voice stopped her again. “Oh, and Zoey?”

Zoey paused, her back straight. “Yes?”

Linda’s smile widened, dripping with false charm. “You might want to take notes on how to host an event like this. I’d hate for you to feel overshadowed in your own home.”

The room erupted in polite laughter, though Zoey could see some guests averting their eyes, uncomfortable with the blatant insult.

Caleb chuckled softly, leaning closer to Linda. “She’ll learn,” he said dismissively.

Zoey felt the sting of humiliation burn deep, but she refused to let it show. She gave Linda a curt nod and walked away, her heart pounding in her chest.

When she moved away from the ballroom, she halted at a distance and turned to watch as Caleb and Linda basked in the attention of the crowd.

Linda laughed at something Caleb said, her hand resting on his arm possessively.

“Quite the pair, aren’t they?”

Zoey turned to see her father-in-law, Lord Alcantara, standing beside her. His eyes, sharp and knowing, were fixed on the couple.

“Quite,” Zoey replied, her voice flat.

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “And what do you plan to do about it?”

The question caught her off guard. “Do about it?”

“You’re not one to sit quietly and let the world trample you, Zoey,” he said, his tone low. “I didn’t bring you into this family to be a bystander.”

Zoey looked at him, searching his face for any sign of the man who had once shown her kindness. “You brought me here to serve Caleb’s ambitions. That’s all I’ve ever been to him—a tool.”

His eyes narrowed. “Caleb doesn’t understand the value of what he has. But that doesn’t mean you should let him or anyone else diminish you.”