Chapter 4

The victory gala was held in the grand ballroom of a luxury five-star hotel downtown.

When I arrived, the hall was already mostly set up. I had spent all of yesterday afternoon hauling boxes, coordinating floral arrangements, and testing the massive LED projector screens by myself.

Tonight was supposed to be a triumph celebrating the ink drying on the massive multi-million-dollar Apex contract.

My pitch. Linda's glory. Mark's promotion.

And I was expected to stand quietly in the background like an invisible piece of furniture.

I wore a crisp, tailored white shirt and tailored black trousers, my hair pulled back into a sleek, functional ponytail. I stood near the catering station near the edge of the room, holding a glass of water, trying to stay out of the spotlight.

Linda wasn't about to let me off that easily.

Draped in a striking crimson designer dress, she parted the crowd, holding a crystal glass of red wine, marching straight toward me. She wore the hungry smile of a predator that had cornered its prey.

"Well, well. Look who showed up," she said, stopping right in front of me and looking me up and down with utter contempt. "All dressed up tonight, Nia. Are you here to celebrate the team's success, or are you just scouting your next sugar daddy?"

Several colleagues standing nearby turned to look.

I tightened my grip on my glass. "Linda, I'm here because you assigned me event coordination."

"Event coordination?" Linda laughed shrilly, deliberately projecting her voice so half the room could hear. "Must've felt pretty thrilling chatting up Ethan Vance on the sidewalk, huh? What happened? Did he realize what kind of trash you were and kick you to the curb?"

Conversations around us began to taper off. People turned their heads.

My jaw tightened. "Linda, watch your mouth."

"Watch my mouth?" Linda gasped in theatrical amusement. She spun around, grabbing the arms of two nearby managers as if sharing the funniest joke of the year. "Listen to this, everyone! Our brave little intern, always trying to sleep her way to the top! First she lures our male staff into private overtime, then she stalks the CEO outside the lobby! Did you all see the photos? Thought she could jump straight from the mailroom to the penthouse!"

A circle was forming around us. People pulled out their phones. Whispers rippled through the crowd.

My hands were shaking with pure, boiling rage, but I held my ground.

"Those photos were completely benign. We were walking into the building having a normal conversation."

Linda stepped into my personal space, sneering inches from my face. "An intern doesn't just 'have a normal conversation' with the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar corporation! Ethan was just being polite because he has manners. Did you really think snapping a picture next to him would make you Mrs. Vance? Look in a damn mirror, Nia. You're a nobody."

Scattered chuckles echoed through the gathering crowd—quiet, but cutting like razor blades.

I took a deep, steadying breath.

I had endured the stolen pitch. I had endured the framed theft. I had endured the Slack slander, the social exile, and the humiliation.

I had taken every punch they threw.

Not tonight.

"Ethan Vance is my brother," I said.

My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade through silk.

"I didn't seduce anyone."

The ballroom went dead silent.

Every single person froze, staring at me.

Linda stared for a full second, and then she doubled over, erupting into hysterical, gasping laughter.

"Your *brother*?!" She straightened up, dabbing at the corner of her eyes, wiping away tears of laughter. "Ethan Vance is your brother?! You're claiming that the CEO of Vance Global is your biological brother?!"

Ripples of snide laughter washed over the crowd.

"She's completely lost her mind."

"Unbelievable. The nerve on this girl."

"Claiming the CEO is her brother just to save face? That's beyond pathetic."

I stood tall in the center of the ring of mocking faces.

Nobody believed me.

I was telling the absolute truth, but in their eyes, I was just a desperate, delusional clown.

Linda stopped laughing, her expression curdling into pure spite.

"Nia, if you're going to spin a fantasy, at least make it believable," she hissed. "You claim Ethan Vance is your brother? Where's your proof? Should I call him right now and ask him if he recognizes his little sister?"