Chapter 229: Rich People Are Annoying
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I slipped through the grand double doors just as another group of photographers surged towards the entrance, their flashes going off like misfired fireworks.
The doorman discreetly nodded at me—thank goodness for little mercies and I blended into the crowd inside the ballroom before anyone could shout my name again. My heart was pounding against the sapphire silk of my gown, but at least the worst of the red-carpet ordeal was behind me.
From the inside, the Grand Aurum Ballroom was even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers dripped light like melted sugar, casting rainbows across the polished marble floors that mirrored every movement.
Waiters in crisp white jackets worked between clusters of guests, balancing trays of champagne flutes and delicate canapés that looked way too pretty to eat.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, cigar smoke wafting in from the terrace, and the faint metallic tang of money exchanging hands under polite masks.
Everyone here seemed to know exactly where they fit in; I felt like I’d been tossed into the middle of an art piece while the paint was still wet.
I grabbed a glass of something golden (god, please let it be apple juice), mostly to have something to do with my hands, and spent the next ten minutes trying to appear like I belonged. Strangers approached with the same curious and slightly condescending smiles.
"You’re the Valentine girl, right?" one woman asked, diamonds glimmering around her neck like captured stars. "How utterly fascinating. From... what was it? A little apartment in the city? And now, look at you. Quite the Cinderella story."
I managed a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Something like that."
An older man, with a voice like aged bourbon, leaned in closer. "Do they still have those charming little coin-operated laundry machines where you grew up? I read about them once."
What the actual fuck? I almost burst into laughter in their faces, they had to be kidding!