The news of Pervis and Anna's divorce spread through their social circles like wildfire, fueled by Noah's manufactured online scandal and the genuine shock of those who had known them as a couple.Within days, it seemed everyone had an opinion about what had happened.Anna sat at an upscale café in the city's business district, surrounded by three women she'd considered friends for years.The lunch meeting had been scheduled weeks ago, but now Anna regretted coming."So it's really true then?" Margaret asked, stirring her latte with exaggerated casualness. "You and Pervis are officially done?""Yes," Anna replied tersely, not meeting anyone's eyes."I heard he left you for someone wealthier," Susan added, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "The Coleman woman, right? Aria?""It's complicated," Anna said, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup."Not that complicated," Jennifer chimed in with a laugh. "Pervis finally found a woman who matched his level. Good for him, honestly.

The invitation arrived in an elegant cream envelope embossed with gold lettering: "The Annual Metropolitan Charity Gala." Grace tossed it onto Pervis's desk with a grin."You're coming with me," she announced, not bothering to frame it as a question.Pervis looked up from his laptop. "I'm not really a charity gala type of person.""You are now," Grace replied cheerfully. "Consider it part of your education. Public relations, networking, learning how to smile at people you can't stand—all essential business skills.""Sounds delightful," Pervis said dryly."It will be," Grace assured him. "Plus, Aria and Christina will be there. It's one of the major social events of the season. Everyone who's anyone attends."What neither of them knew was that "everyone" included Anna Morrison and her mother, Justina, who had secured invitations through Anna's business connections.The gala was held at the Grand Meridian Hotel, a palatial venue with crystal chandeliers and marble floors that gleamed un

The email announcement had arrived three days prior: "Mandatory Attendance: Whitewater Corporation Partnership Celebration Dinner at the Grand Meridian Hotel."The message described it as a celebration of the company's successful partnership with Henderson Industries, one of the largest manufacturing firms on the East Coast.Pervis regarded the invitation with mild disinterest.Another corporate event, another evening of forced networking and artificial pleasantries.He dressed simply that evening—a clean white shirt, dark slacks, and the watch Aria had given him.Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw unnecessary attention.The Grand Meridian's ballroom was already buzzing with activity when he arrived.Colleagues clustered in groups, their voices elevated with the kind of aggressive cheerfulness that always accompanied free alcohol.Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over tables draped in white linen, and servers moved gracefully through the crowd with trays of champagne.Pervis h

As the dinner portion of the evening concluded, the master of ceremonies—a polished woman named Sarah Martinez who clearly specialized in corporate events—took the microphone with practiced enthusiasm."Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special activity planned for this evening," she announced, her voice bright and engaging. "As part of our commitment to community service, we're hosting a charity collection game."Murmurs of interest rippled through the crowd as servers brought out an ornate locked box, placing it ceremoniously on a table at the front of the room."Here's how it works," Sarah continued. "We invite each of you to donate a valuable personal item—watches, wallets, jewelry, anything meaningful—which will be auctioned off next week with all proceeds going to the Westside Children's Hospital.""How much are we talking?" someone called out."Whatever feels right to you," Sarah replied smoothly. "Some of our past donations have included Rolex watches, designer handbags, even ca

The ballroom buzzed with renewed energy after Pervis's departure. Conversations resumed with the kind of animated enthusiasm that always followed dramatic events, people already spinning the story into versions that made their own reactions seem more perceptive."I knew something was off about him from day one," one executive declared to his table. "You can always tell when someone doesn't belong in professional circles.""The quiet ones are always the most dangerous," his companion agreed, swirling her wine. "My mother always warned me about people like that."At the bar, Richard Thornton accepted congratulations as if he'd personally solved a complex mystery. "Good instincts," someone told him. "Most people would have just assumed they'd misplaced it."Gerald Roden held court at the center table, basking in the glow of vindication. "It's unfortunate," he said with false humility, "but someone had to have the courage to speak up. If I hadn't trusted my instincts..."Most of the crowd