Young. Beautiful. Draped in confidence that didn’t belong to her.
And on her finger—
My family’s diamond.
The Harrington Star.
A ring that had passed through generations of women who built empires, survived wars, and buried men who underestimated them.
Now sitting on the hand of a woman who thought she’d won it in a game she didn’t understand.
Thomas spotted me.
His lips curled into something that might have passed for a polite smile—if you didn’t know him.
“Allison,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t expect you to make it. I thought yesterday might have been… difficult for you.”
“Not nearly as difficult as today will be for you,” I replied evenly.
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