Athena I left my phone on the vanity table. I realized it halfway through my meeting with Diane, my designer, when I reached into my bag to show her a reference image I had saved. The Whitmore family gala was three weeks away and there was still so much to finalize. It was the biggest event in the family’s social calendar, the kind of evening that got talked about in the city for months after. Crystal chandeliers, guest lists that read like a who’s who, everything polished to perfection. And as always, I was the one behind it. Not officially. There was no title, no credit, no acknowledgment at the dinner table. Just Athena, quietly making sure everything ran beautifully while the Whitmore name got the applause. Diane spread her sketches across the table and waited while I searched my bag a second time. “I have to run back home quickly,” I told her, reaching for my coat. “I left my phone. I won’t be long.” I stepped outside and called my driver. “Take me back to the es
Last Updated : 2026-03-15 Read more