The morning of the gala dawned clear, with the city bathed in pale gold light and the air sharp with anticipation. Blair stood before the mirror of her suite, not in her dress yet, but in a white robe, her hair pinned back. She looked into her own eyes.
This wasn't just another event.
This was a test of balance—a tightrope walk between who she was and who she had to pretend to be.
The heir to the Spencer Group didn't flinch. But Blair? She still remembered the feeling of Finn's hands tightening on her wrist, the way people looked at her as if she were disposable. She still remembered what it felt like to be powerless.
And tonight, she had to be both.
"You don't have to go," her mother had said that morning, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"I have to go," Blair replied. "If I d
