The Announcement

The light from her phone illuminated her pale face. Her thumb faltered with every nasty remark as she went through the news headlines.

Who is Evelyn Drake, the billionaire CEO who marries an unknown person?

The Blackwell Was Captured by a Convent Girl.

The New Bride of Isaac Blackwell: Maid or Mastermind?

Her vision became hazy. She instantly regretted it after swiping to the comments area.

"She’s obviously a gold-digger."

"Probably got pregnant to trap him."

"From wearing high-end shoes to mopping floors. Some girls are lucky more than others.

Evelyn felt a knot in her stomach. Her father's passing and the countless evenings spent figuring out how to cover hospital expenses were unknown to these strangers. All they saw was a Cinderella tale in which the bride was a villain.

She clenched her fingers around the phone. She threw it across the room, and the screen cracked. With a dull thud, it struck the wall and dropped to the ground. The sound broke the delicate barrier of her calm.

Her breath caught as she hid her face in her hands.

Whispering, "What have I done?"

In front of her was Evelyn's own plate, unopened. She was bewildered by the rows of knives, spoons, and forks, all of which flashed accusingly.

Vivienne raised her wineglass and elegantly swirled the red liquid. She glanced at Evelyn with her blue eyes. "Tell me, dear," she said in a silky voice. Did you learn table etiquette in the convent? or simply how to plead."

Evelyn's plate was clattered by the knife she was holding. The room was split through by the harsh clang. Across from her, Camilla Sterling smirked behind her serviette.

"No answer?" Vivienne's eyebrows arched. "I suppose silence was part of your training too."

Evelyn felt the heat rise beneath her skin. She forced a faint smile as her jaw tightened. "I manage."

Vivienne's mouth quirked. "That remains to be seen."

Evelyn looked at Isaac and begged for help in a quiet voice. His eyes were focused on his plate as he cut his steak with mechanical accuracy. Even more painful than Vivienne's remarks was his silence.

Each bite of the dinner tasted like ash as it went on. When it was over, Vivienne stood elegantly, her eyes still resting on Evelyn. Her words were, "Welcome to the family," "Let’s hope you survive it."

Evelyn's nails dug into the wood as she held onto the table's edge.

Why won't Isaac stand up for me?

In the rear seat, Evelyn sat stiffly. Every hushed cry from outside the tinted glass made her heart beat.

"Mrs. Blackwell, are you pregnant?" A single voice screamed.

Another asked, "Did you trick him into marrying you?"

"Evelyn, smile for us! "Give us that gold-digger smile!"

Her throat hurt from the bile. Her pocketbook was like a lifeline to her. The vehicle decelerated close to the gate. As they pushed bodies away, the security personnel yelled warnings.

Suddenly, a man in a blue suit showed up next to her door. The lock opened with a click.

She shrank back. "No, "

"It's me," he declared. The terror was broken by his cool voice.

Belmont Marcus. Isaac's closest companion. He almost slid inside after opening the door. Dark eyes scanned her pale face as his towering frame filled the room.

"Take a breath," said Marcus. "They're just noise."

"Easy for you to say," said Evelyn in a loud voice. "They’re tearing me apart."

"Eventually, they'll grow bored," Marcus remarked, grinning grimly. "In the meantime, get used to it."

The automobile slammed ahead, escaping the throng. Evelyn slumped on the chair.

Can this get much worse?

She looked around, trying to find him. Somewhere he was, mixing with the elites of society and investors, who, upon seeing her, muttered under gloved hands. The stranger. The maid who became a bride.

"Enjoying yourself, darling?"

It was a voice full of sweet hatred. Evelyn's back tensed. The red silk of Camilla Sterling's gown pooled like blood around her feet as she slid into view. Beneath lashes that were too thick to be genuine, her green eyes glistened with malice.

"Lovely dress," Camilla added, a smirk forming on her lips. "Shame it can't hide the desperation."

Evelyn moved, trying to maintain a level voice. "I'm not here for your approval."

"Approval?" Camilla took a step closer and chuckled gently. "You don't belong here, sweetie. My stepmother is using you as a pawn in her game. Isaac will discard you like yesterday's gossip after she's finished with you.

Evelyn tightened her jaw. "Isac married me."

"Yes. For ease of use." Leaning in, Camilla's perfume was cloying and harsh. "You're not on par with him. You're not even a rival.

Evelyn gave her a fierce look. "I won’t let you intimidate me."

Camilla's grin grew angular. "Who said anything about intimidation?" She took a beautiful step back. "By the time I'm done, you'll beg to leave him."

Evelyn gripped the brittle glass tighter. Evelyn felt a cold creep around her heart as Camilla vanished into the crowd.

The Lexington Grand Hotel's gala was a well planned battleground. While violinists performed classical music that no one really paid attention to, gilded mirrors reflected wealth and vanity. Evelyn walked into the room next to Isaac, aware of every questioning look and muttered comment.

She felt the weight of the scrutiny like an iron mantle. With every step, the white satin of her gown skimmed the marble, and she maintained a high chin. Isaac's hand lingered close to her little back, but it never made contact.

"Smile," he muttered to himself.

She made one. The effort hurt her cheeks.

Isaac's phone vibrated as they got closer to a group of executives. He took a quick look at the screen. He said, "I need to take this," and started to go. "Don’t move."

Evelyn stood exposed and alone. Like moths to flame, conversations moved in her direction.

In a whisper, one woman said, "She looks so uncomfortable."

Another questioned, "What did he see in her?"

Evelyn gulped hard and looked about for a way out.

"Oops."

A hand brushed against her elbow. She felt cold liquid on her chest. The immaculate satin was saturated with the sting of wine. As ruby-red drips showered the floor like a crime scene, the audience gasped.

Evelyn gasped with surprise. With an empty glass hanging from her fingers, Camilla stood next to her. Her enjoyment shone in her eyes.

"So clumsy of me," sweet Camilla said. "White was such a bold choice, considering your... background."

Flashes from cameras burst all around them. Reporters rushed in, consuming Evelyn's humiliation with their cameras. She pushed her fists over the stain, feeling heat creep up her throat.

She saw Isaac from the other side of the room. He watched the show from the bar, his phone lowered. They looked at each other. She felt a wave of relief. Now he would take over. Put an end to this.

Isaac stared at her for a painful moment. Then he backed away.

The world swayed. She was suffocated by the giggling, the flashing cameras, and Camilla's mocking smirk.

Why did he not step in?