Chapter 149

"Ms. Carter, what a pleasant surprise to see you here," cooed one of the socialites, her manicured fingers fluttering near her pearl necklace. Lauren Blackwell's smile didn't quite reach her cold, calculating eyes.

"We were just discussing a spa day with your dear mother-in-law." The woman's saccharine tone dripped with false sweetness. "Planning to raid your boutique for some new ensembles!"

Evelyn Carter recognized the viper in designer silk immediately. Lauren Blackwell - one of Eleanor's sycophants who'd once sneered at her during charity galas.

"Mrs. Blackwell," Evelyn's voice carried like chilled champagne, "my boutique welcomes all discerning clients. But as you're well aware, Nathan and I are divorced. Mrs. Blackwell here is no longer family."

She let the words hang, watching with dark satisfaction as Eleanor's carefully botoxed face twitched. "Our relationship was never quite the... fairytale she's been selling you."

The air crackled with tension. Lauren's smile froze mid-sip of her mimosa. The other socialites' eyes darted between them like spectators at a tennis match.

"My apologies, Ms. Carter," Lauren backpedaled with the grace of a cornered fox. "How terribly forgetful of me." Her obsequious tone would've been comical if it weren't so pathetic.

The other women scrambled to distance themselves from Eleanor, their designer heels practically leaving skid marks.

"We barely know Mrs. Blackwell!"

"Just a chance encounter, really."

"Karma's a fitting stylist, isn't it?"

Eleanor's chest heaved beneath her Chanel suit. These were women she'd lunched with for decades, sponsored their charity events, introduced to her inner circle. Now they discarded her like last season's Prada.

"Ms. Carter, we really must be going-" Lauren began her retreat.

"Wait." Evelyn's command froze them mid-turn. From her Birkin, Olivia produced a stack of embossed cards. "Since you admire my designs, consider this an invitation to my private client list. Twenty percent off your first purchase."

Lauren's greedy fingers trembled as she accepted the black card. "You're too generous!" The women practically curtsied in their Louboutins.

Eleanor watched her social capital evaporate before her Gucci sunglasses. The cruelest cut? Watching Evelyn - that nobody secretary - dismantle her life with such effortless grace.

"Eleanor," Evelyn purred, adjusting her diamond tennis bracelet, "do be more careful with your fabrications. We wouldn't want people thinking we're... close."

The knife twisted deeper. Eleanor's manicured nails bit into her palms. She'd had the Sterling empire within her grasp - connections to the Kingsley fortune, prestige beyond measure. All destroyed by her own arrogance.

As the socialites scattered like frightened birds, Evelyn allowed herself a small, vicious smile. Revenge, she reflected, looked exquisite in couture.