Chapter 113
Chapter 113:
For the affluent women of Eighfast, such events weren’t just about the material things they were enjoying; they were a stage to radiate sophistication and uphold their air of cultured grace. Matilda, effortlessly mingling, was deep in conversation, while Sonya lingered nearby, her interest waning.
This soiree wasn’t just anything for her—it was a golden opportunity. Sonya had long yearned to be part of the city’s exclusive high-society circles, and today offered a chance to step into their gilded ranks.
Her gaze wandered over the well-dressed attendees, but then, something caught her attention. Her breath hitched, her eyes widened in astonishment. Was her mind playing tricks on her?
That person over there—she looked exactly like Yelena. No, it couldn’t be. Surely, it was someone who just somehow bore a resemblance. Yelena, of all people, didn’t belong here. How could Yelena have possibly gained access to such an exclusive event, brimming with Eighfast’s most prestigious ladies?
But Sonya couldn’t shake the feeling, her curiosity bubbling to the surface. She leaned closer to Matilda, whispered a quick excuse, and made her way toward the mysterious figure. Matilda, ever the encourager, had brought Sonya here to help her network and urged her to mingle with the city’s elite.
As Sonya approached, the truth became unavoidable. It wasn’t a look-alike. It was Yelena.
Yelena stood apart from the crowd, framed by the light spilling through the floor-to-ceiling window. She gazed out at the hills beyond, serene and unbothered, as though she had every right to be there.
Sonya stopped dead in her tracks, disbelief etched across her face. Yelena was a vision of elegance in her flowing dress, her every movement exuding sophistication and composure. But the tranquility she carried was quickly interrupted by Sonya’s brisk approach.
“Yelena, what are you doing here?” Sonya’s tone carried an edge of condescension, fueled by her newfound sense of superiority. To her, Yelena no longer deserved the respect of an elder sister; she was just a relic of Sonya’s rural past—one she was desperate to keep buried. How could someone like Yelena, with her humble roots, possibly belong in a setting like this?
𝕆𝖗𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖆𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖔𝗇
Upon hearing the sharp, familiar voice, Yelena’s brows knitted slightly as she turned to face the newcomer. Sonya? What were the odds? Yelena’s lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. It seemed fate had an odd sense of humor.
“What’s wrong?” Yelena replied with calm detachment. “Is this your party? Am I not allowed to be here p>
“Do you even know where you are? This isn’t some roadside cafe. The people here are true high-society elites—not girls from backwater villages.” Sonya’s face hardened.
Yelena’s sharp gaze met Sonya’s, her composure unshaken. “And you think you qualify as high-society? From what I see, you don’t exactly fit in either.” After all, the Roberts family, with their new money, could hardly be given a place on the guest list of this caliber.
“For your information, I came with Mrs. Ellis.” Sonya sneered. “What about you? Oh, wait, let me guess.” A mocking smile spread across her face. “You’re working here, aren’t you?” She recalled that she had seen Yelena working part-time as a server in fancy places before. So, it made sense to her now—how else could Yelena have gotten in?
Yelena gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes, her patience thinning. Was Sonya blind or just plain ignorant? Could she not see the way Yelena was dressed? Did she really believe that Yelena was there to work as a waitress or something?