“Today the Sullivans are throwing this massive birthday bash for their eldest daughter, Audrey, and they even had someone personally drop off an invite at my place.
Where do they even get the nerve?”
Sure, the Sullivans had some clout in North City, but compared to the Reeds?
Not even in the same orbit.
Plus, their families had zero overlap.
Edwin didn’t respond.
He quietly emptied the last two chunks of raw meat into the pond, crimson threads mixing into the water like ink.
If the Sullivans had actually sent over an invitation, there’s no way he’d be out of the loop.
He grabbed his coat, giving a glance at the group of spoiled rich kids still playing cards.
“You guys keep it going—I’m heading out.”
This bunch had no real talent other than burning through cash.
A bunch of legendary playboys, really.
But hanging with them?
It served two purposes.
One, it threw off the sly old foxes in the Kings.
Two, once these guys got rolling, they spilled all kinds of gossip…
That day, the Half Moon Bay Hotel was fully booked by the Sullivans for Audrey’s party.
Sleek luxury cars were lined up outside.
The guests?
Basically all the A-listers of North City.
A swarm of media showed up too.
The whole scene screamed glam—on par with any socialite event in the city.
Across the street, a low-profile black sedan was parked in the shadows.
Freddie had a clear view of the Sullivan family—Edward, Beatrice, Audrey, and Isobel—greeting guests with full-face smiles.
“So, boss, when are you jumping in?” he asked.
“Obviously, when it hits peak chaos,” Ashley replied, touching up her makeup in the mirror.
Her once fair, soft skin was now toned down with earthy pigment.
Sharpened shadows hollowed her cheeks, giving her a malnourished look.
Even the bright lips were dulled with powder.
She glanced at Freddie and threw him a playful wink.
“How do I look?”
Freddie raised an eyebrow.
“…Like a refugee.”
Ashley smirked—exactly what she was going for.
Who cared about looking perfect?
Playing the pitiful card got more sympathy.
Inside the opulent ballroom, all the guests had arrived.
The place glittered with designer gowns and polished smiles, laughter ringing under crystal chandeliers.
It was buzzing.
While the ultra-elite hadn’t shown, most of North City’s high society had shown up to give face.
From the second floor, Edward stood with arms crossed, surveying the crowd below.
What caught his eye was the sheer number of reporters.
He didn’t remember inviting that many press outlets.
“Did you bring in all these journalists?” he asked Beatrice, frowning slightly.
Beatrice looked just as puzzled.
She had only invited three media houses, yet over twenty had shown up—and not just any, but the big-name ones.
“Guess it’s because Sullivan Group’s stock has been doing really well these days.
All those media folks are probably here for your sake, honey.” Beatrice smiled sweetly as she gently fixed Edward’s collar, putting on the perfect picture of a loving wife.
Edward clearly enjoyed hearing that.
It lifted his mood instantly.
“Dad.”
Right then, Audrey and Isobel stepped out of the lounge together.
Isobel still had bruises all over her face from yesterday’s inexplicable beating.
The makeup layered on couldn’t hide it, making her look even more out of place next to the radiant Audrey.
Edward’s expression soured, eyes filled with displeasure.
“What a disgrace!
Today’s your sister’s big day.
If you pull any crap again, I swear you won’t know what hit you!”
“…” Isobel stomped her foot, biting back her words despite the grievance in her eyes.
It was like being cursed.
The people who tied her up yesterday simply vanished without a trace…
She had no choice but to swallow it in silence.
Edward turned and headed downstairs to greet the VIPs.
Audrey was about to follow, but Beatrice grabbed her and pulled her to a quiet corner.
“What’s this video and news about, huh?
You went on record calling that wench Grace your mother?!”
Beatrice’s anger barely stayed under control as she pulled out a video from a few days ago that showed Audrey being interviewed.
Audrey gently ran her fingers through her perfectly styled hair, clearly unbothered.
“It was just for show, Mom.
I know exactly who my real mother is.”
“But now everyone out there thinks you’re Grace’s daughter!” Beatrice’s voice rose uncontrollably.
She had spent twenty years raising Audrey with everything she had, and now her daughter turned around and acknowledged her most hated enemy as her mom?
Beatrice couldn’t take that.
Seeing her mom seriously pissed off, Audrey quickly put on a sweet and innocent smile, taking her hand.
“Don’t be mad, Mom.
You know how big Grace’s name is in the fragrance world.
Honestly, winning first place in the prelims of the perfumer competition—it was all thanks to her help.” She noticed Beatrice’s face softening and went on, gently coaxing her, “Just hang in there for a bit.
It’s all temporary.
Once Dad accepts me as his successor and I’m officially in charge, we won’t have to cater to anyone ever again.”
Beatrice was won over almost instantly by her few smooth words.
“When that day comes, I want you shouting from the rooftops that I’m your real mother.”
Audrey hugged her, acting all sweet.
“Of course!
You’ve done so much for me, Mom.
I’ll treat you like royalty in the future.”
But the second Beatrice turned her back, Audrey rolled her eyes in pure disdain.