Chapter 4

Claire's POV

Connor pointed to the empty box on the table.

"And this photo."

I picked up the box. Inside was a photo of Isabelle holding infant Connor, with four twisted words written on the back.

"Mommy loves you."

"That lady was so scary. I didn't want it."

Connor buried himself in my arms, his small hands gripping my clothes tightly.

"Mom, I don't know her. I only have you as my mom."

I held my son tightly, my eyes stinging.

Isabelle wanted to play the family card, not knowing that seven years of companionship had long surpassed blood ties.

The child wasn't stupid. He knew in his heart who treated him well.

"It's okay. Stay away from that lady from now on."

I watched the shredder swallow that photo, clenching my fists.

Isabelle, you shouldn't have, you absolutely shouldn't have reached your hand toward the child.

When Sebastian came home, he glanced at the shredded paper in the trash can, seeming to guess what had happened.

But he said nothing, just took an invitation from his briefcase and handed it to me.

"You're the hostess for tomorrow night's gala."

He looked at me steadily.

"Don't disappoint me."

I took the invitation, my fingertips tracing over the words "Mrs. White."

"Don't worry."

I smiled at him.

The charity gala venue.

A giant backdrop board was being hoisted up by workers, printed with some real estate company's huge logo.

"Who authorized this to be hung?"

I asked.

The project director rushed over, sweating profusely.

"This was just forcibly requested by the sponsor's representative. They said Mr. Lee specially approved it..."

I didn't even lift an eyelid, pointing at the board.

"Take it down."

"But..."

"No buts."

A middle-aged man emerged from behind the scaffolding, an oily smile on his face.

"This is a promotional spot specially approved by Mr. Lee. If you take it down, I'm afraid next year's sponsorship funding won't be easy to negotiate."

The man deliberately emphasized the words "sponsorship funding," his eyes showing some contempt for me.

One minute later.

The man's phone rang. He answered, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.

"What? Bought out? Refund?"

I put away my phone.

"Now this advertising spot belongs to me."

I stepped forward, my high heels clicking crisply on the marble floor.

"Take your garbage and get out of my venue."

The man opened his mouth, looked at the security gathering behind me, and finally slunk away.

After dealing with the sponsor, I walked toward the back corridor.

The security chief was already waiting with a team of men in black.

I handed him a photo.

The photo showed Isabelle, an old photo from seven years ago, her expression frivolous.

"Burn this face into your memory."

"No matter who brings her in, if this person appears in the banquet hall, your entire security team is fired."

The chief took the photo, breaking into a cold sweat.

"Yes, Miss Hart."

VIP lounge.

During rehearsal breaks, I sat on the sofa massaging my aching ankles.

Several society ladies who'd just received entry tickets were gathered together touching up their makeup.

A woman from a wealthy mining family approached with champagne.

"Miss Hart, I heard your sister returned to the country? She used to be our trendsetter. Why isn't she here?"

Her voice was loud, and the surroundings instantly quieted.

Everyone pricked up their ears.

I was looking at the event schedule. Hearing this, I only glanced up briefly without responding.

The air froze for three seconds.

She realized she might have stepped on a landmine and awkwardly tried to cover.

"Oh, I mean, you have much more of the Mrs. White presence now..."

I closed the folder and smiled at my assistant beside me.

"Re-evaluate Mr. Smith's membership eligibility for next year."

Mrs. Smith's face turned deathly pale.

Those around who'd wanted to watch the excitement immediately scattered, afraid of being implicated.

The main hall doors were pushed open.

Sebastian entered with his executive team.

He wore an impeccably tailored custom suit, like a star surrounded by admirers.

I immediately shoved my feet back into my high heels, enduring the severe pain as I stood up.

Sebastian walked straight to the main stage, looking up to check the lighting.

From beginning to end, he didn't look at me once.

"Well done."