I was a Davenport heiress, engaged to Blake Vanderbilt III. My old-money life seemed perfectly scripted, culminating tonight at the Spinsters' Ball. My cousin, Savannah, the family charity case, was always my dearest confidante, urging me to "live a little" and ignore whispers about my weight. But at the ball, Blake shattered it all. Under blinding flashes, he publicly declared his love for Savannah: "The engagement is off. I cannot marry an embarrassment." He looked directly at me. The whispers turned to roars. The Boston tabloids screamed, "Hefty Heiress Dumped at Debut," pairing my tear-streaked face with Savannah's triumphant smile. Back home, Savannah, dripping crocodile tears, twisted the knife, confessing her years-long campaign. "You sat around...eating cake," she sneered, exposing her malice. How could the girl I'd shared my home and everything with orchestrate such public humiliation? Why was I so blind to her calculated sabotage, her sweet encouragement a poison meant to destroy me? There was no anger, no heartbreak... just an unsettling calm and a sudden, clear vision. They expected tears, begging, a scene. But when she claimed my grandmother's heirloom pearls, something snapped. I snatched them back. I left the mockery behind, walking away from the life they thought they'd destroyed. They had no idea who they were truly dealing with.
I was a Davenport heiress, engaged to Blake Vanderbilt III.
My old-money life seemed perfectly scripted, culminating tonight at the Spinsters' Ball.
My cousin, Savannah, the family charity case, was always my dearest confidante, urging me to "live a little" and ignore whispers about my weight.
But at the ball, Blake shattered it all.
Under blinding flashes, he publicly declared his love for Savannah: "The engagement is off. I cannot marry an embarrassment."
He looked directly at me.
The whispers turned to roars.
The Boston tabloids screamed, "Hefty Heiress Dumped at Debut," pairing my tear-streaked face with Savannah's triumphant smile.
Back home, Savannah, dripping crocodile tears, twisted the knife, confessing her years-long campaign.
"You sat around...eating cake," she sneered, exposing her malice.
How could the girl I'd shared my home and everything with orchestrate such public humiliation?
Why was I so blind to her calculated sabotage, her sweet encouragement a poison meant to destroy me?
There was no anger, no heartbreak... just an unsettling calm and a sudden, clear vision.
They expected tears, begging, a scene.
But when she claimed my grandmother's heirloom pearls, something snapped.
I snatched them back.
I left the mockery behind, walking away from the life they thought they'd destroyed.
They had no idea who they were truly dealing with.
Other books by Gavin
More