Chapter 147

No.1

Three days later, Elisa's phone buzzed with an email.It was from Maeve Kearney, a friend who ran one of the top PR firms in the city.

Hey babe! Big Baby Shower for Charlotte Van der Woodsen at the St. Regis this afternoon. You have to come! I know you've been through hell, and I feel awful for being stuck launching the London office for the last six months, but I'm back now. You need to get out, show your face, and remind these people who you are. It's going to be the event of the season.Details attached.

Elisa smiled. Maeve was a good friend, and a distraction sounded nice. A room full of powerful women, champagne, and tiny shoes. It was exactly the kind of normal, civilized afternoon she needed after the chaos of the past week.

She dressed carefully-a simple, elegant cream dress that whispered money without shouting it-and took a car to the St. Regis.

The hotel was a hive of activity. The ballroom was draped in white silk and overflowing with tens of thousands of dollars' worth of white peonies. The guest list was a who's who of New York society.

Elisa walked to the check-in table, feeling a rare moment of relaxation. The woman behind the table, a young assistant with a headset, scanned the list.

No.2

"Name?" the assistant asked, not looking up.

"Elisa Wilder," Elisa said.

The assistant's finger scrolled down the iPad. She stopped, her brow furrowing. She looked up at Elisa,a polite, slightly confused smile on her face. "Oh! You must be Ms. Sinclair's assistant. Right this way,please. The staff entrance is through the side door."

Elisa froze. "Ms. Sinclair's assistant?"

"Allena Sinclair," the assistant clarified, gesturing to the side. "The VIP lounge is for guests only, but we have a designated area for the personal staff."

The cold, sick feeling of humiliation washed over Elisa. She was on the list. But not as a guest.She was listed as the assistant to her husband's mistress.

No.3

Before she could respond, a frantic voice called out."Elisa! Oh my god, you made it!"

Maeve Kearney rushed over, looking stunning in a pink suit, but her face was a mask of horror. She grabbed Elisa's arm and pulled her away from the desk, into a quiet alcove behind a massive floral arrangement.

"Maeve, what is going on?" Elisa asked, her voice tight. "Why am I on the list as Allena's assistant?"

Maeve pressed a hand to her forehead, her eyes squeezed shut. "I am so, so sorry, Elisa. I don't know what happened. This feels... deliberate."

"What do you mean?"

"My new assistant swears she listed you under my name as a VIP guest," Maeve said, opening her eyes,her expression agonized. "But the final list that went to the hotel... something changed. Allena's team was also cc'd on the final coordination. I don't know how,Elisa,but this has their fingerprints all over it."

No.4

Elisa understood instantly. This wasn't a mistake. It was a message, a public shaming orchestrated with cruel precision.

"It's fine," Elisa said, her voice hardening. "I'Il leave."

"No!" Maeve grabbed her arm. "Don't leave. If you walk out now, it'll look like you were thrown out. It'll be all over Page Six by tonight. 'Chambers' Ex Flees in Téars from Allena's Party.'"

Elisa hesitated. The thought of giving Allena that satisfaction was unbearable.

"And besides," Maeve lowered her voice, her eyes darting toward the ballroom. "They're here. August and Allena. They just arrived. Everyone is treating them like royalty."

Elisa's spine straightened. "They're here?"

No.5

"Yes. And if you leave, they win the narrative," Maeve said, her PR instincts kicking in. "Stay. You don't have to do anything. Just be seen. Your presence is a statement. You're the legal wife. You have every right to be here."①

Elisa took a deep breath. She looked through the gap in the flowers into the ballroom. She saw them.August, tall and imperious in a dark suit. Allena,glowing in a pale blue dress, her hand resting on his arm. They were surrounded by a gaggle. of

sycophants, laughing, air-kissing, holding court.

The perfect couple.

"If I stay," Elisa said slowly, "I'm not hiding in the corner."

"Of course not," Maeve agreed. "Just... blend in. Be graceful."

No.6

Elisa nodded. She took a champagne flute from a passing waiter and walked into the ballroom.

She found a spot near the edge of the crowd. She was a ghost, a shadow. People glanced at her, their eyes sliding past without recognition. She was nobody's assistant. She was nobody.

She watched August and Allena. They were standing with the guest of honor, an elderly, regal woman who looked like she had stepped out of a Gilded Age portrait. The woman was fawning over Allena,touching her arm,laughing at her jokes.

And then, the woman's gaze drifted. It landed on Elisa.

The woman detached herself from the group and walked over, her movements slow and deliberate.

She stopped in front of Elisa, her eyessharp and assessing.

No.7

"Hello," the woman said, her voice crisp. "I don't believe we've met. Who are you? I know everyone,and 1 don't know you."

Elisa opened her mouth to speak, but Maeve materialized at her side like a fairy godmother.

"Duchess," Maeve said, her smile bright and professional. "This is my dear friend, Elisa Wilder.She's helping me out today with some PR coordination."

The Duchess's eyes cleared. "Ah, the help. Of course. Very efficient-looking." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her interest vanishing the instant Elisa was categorized as a worker.

Elisa stood there, the champagne flute cold in her hand. She had been introduced, and she had been dismissed. She was in the room, but she was not of the room. She was an intruder in her own life.