I remained silent.
"I think some people need a little reminder that invitations don't automatically make everyone equal."
My fingers tightened against the railing.
"Chloe, that's enough," a woman near the bar said quietly.
Chloe ignored her.
Her eyes dropped toward my vintage navy gown, and a slow smile spread across her face.
"Oh, that's a sweet dress," she remarked.
I looked down at the familiar fabric.
"Thank you."
"Is it vintage?"
"Yes."
"How adorable."
Her tone made the compliment sound like an accusation.
She tilted her head.
"I suppose not everyone can afford something new for an occasion like this."
A few guests exchanged uneasy glances.
I thought of my mother standing beside me years earlier, patiently fastening the small buttons at the back of the dress.
The fabric had survived birthdays, anniversaries, family dinners, and countless beautiful memories without ever losing its meaning.
For the first time that evening, I genuinely wanted Chloe to leave me alone.
"Excuse me," I said, preparing to walk around her.
She moved directly into my path.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to enjoying my evening."
"But we're having such a lovely conversation."
I looked directly into her eyes.
"Are we?"
That simple question seemed to strike something fragile beneath her confidence.
Her cheeks flushed, and her grip tightened around the crystal glass.
For a heartbeat, I thought she might throw an insult and walk away.
Instead, she looked toward the VIP lounge once more.
I followed her glance and realized that she was waiting for Julian to return.
Perhaps she imagined he would find her cruelty amusing, or perhaps she thought publicly humiliating another woman would somehow make her appear more powerful.
Either way, she had chosen the wrong person and the worst possible moment.
"Go ahead," Chloe said suddenly, lifting her glass higher.
The people around us fell quiet.
"Let's give everyone something to remember."
I saw her wrist begin to turn.
At first, my mind refused to understand what was happening because the movement was so deliberate and so completely unnecessary.
Then I saw the dark red cocktail sliding toward the rim of the glass.
Mara gasped from somewhere behind me.
I instinctively stepped backward, but the glass railing blocked my escape.
For one terrible second, Chloe and I stared directly at each other, and I saw the unmistakable satisfaction in her eyes.
Then she tilted the crystal glass and poured its entire contents down the front of my mother's navy gown.