Cynthia’s POV
The night hums with energy as I stand near the entrance, a practiced smile on my face. The gown I chose—a sleek, emerald-green number that hugs my figure and flares slightly at the hem—glimmers under the soft amber lights. Diamond earrings dangle from my ears, catching every flicker of light, while my hair is swept into a perfect chignon, leaving no strand out of place.
Guests arrive steadily, each greeted with my charm and poise. Alexander is off to the side, mingling with a group of well-dressed individuals, his expression unreadable as always. My father’s presence, though, is the real surprise tonight.
I recall our earlier conversation. He hadn’t been interested, his disinterest as familiar as the cold indifference I grew up with—until I mentioned my partner. His respon
