Author's pov
The ballroom buzzed with restrained energy, the kind that made every breath feel heavier.
All eyes were still on Cecilia, standing under the chandelier's golden light like the center piece of a show she never auditioned for.
Her smile stayed picture-perfect, that polite, practiced curve she'd mastered long ago. Inside, she just wanted to disappear. The whole "Locke heiress "act felt like a bad reality show she couldn't turn off.
If it were up to her, Martha and her grandmother would end this charade and let her go back to Denver. But clearly, she wasn't the one calling the shots tonight.
"Elder Luna Black, Miss Jessica, "she greeted smoothly, her tone polite, her smile diplomatic.
Jessica barely looked at her. Her attention stayed on Martha, her voice shaki
