"Mom," Juliet linked arms with her mother, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"Let’s wait for Queen to join us first."
No comparison, no disparity.
Only by setting her up as a foil could everyone see the difference, right?
"No need to wait for her," Madam Bernardo thought of her straightforward younger daughter, a flicker of worry crossing her eyes.
"That child is too blunt for her own good—she detests socializing.
I don’t know who she takes after."
When Queen first returned from studying abroad, she hadn’t been without friends.
But the moment she discovered they were merely following their families’ orders to get close to her—or more accurately, to exploit her connection to the Bernardo family for business—and then badmouthed her behind her back, she immediately cut ties without hesitation.
Truth be told, she and her husband weren’t oblivious.
They had simply turned a blind eye, relieved that someone was willing to keep their daughter company.
In their circle, genuine friendships were practically nonexistent.
Yet Queen, stubborn as ever, refused to tolerate even a grain of deceit.
The same scenario repeated itself twice more after that.
From that moment on, she had completely withdrawn from socializing with anyone in that circle.
Precisely because of this, she and her husband often encouraged their two daughters to keep each other company.
"Queen has always been a bit of a loner," Juliet quickly reassured, picking up on the concern in her mother’s voice.
"But don’t worry, Mom.
She has me—her older sister.
I’ll make sure she finds her place among us eventually."
Hearing this, the worry on Mrs. Bernardo’s face melted into satisfaction.
"You’ve always been the thoughtful one."
As they spoke, the two approached a group of affluent ladies familiar to Mrs. Bernardo.
"Juliet, you look much better than before," a fair-skinned, well-rounded middle-aged woman remarked with a smile, taking the lead in conversation.
"Truly, joy brings radiance to one’s spirit."
Then, with deliberate curiosity, she glanced behind Mrs. Bernardo.
"And where is Queen? Why hasn’t she come with you today?"
Clearly, compared to Juliet, who had been sheltered like a princess in the Bernardo family’s estate, she much preferred the more familiar Queen.
The smile on Juliet’s lips remained unchanged, but a flicker of coldness flashed deep in her eyes.
"Oh, her," Mrs. Bernardo didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.
She blinked at the plump, fair-skinned woman with a knowing smile.
"She’ll be here soon."
The well-off lady nodded, about to say something else—
But Juliet smoothly cut in first, her gaze softening as she admired the necklace around the woman’s neck.
"Auntie, is that the JUBILEE Collection ruby necklace you’re wearing?"
The woman’s attention immediately shifted, her face lighting up with delight.
"You know about this piece?"
Nothing bonds women faster than skincare, makeup, or jewelry.
"Not an expert, but I happen to know the designer," Juliet replied, her eyes warm and admiring.
"A necklace this magnificent—only someone with your elegance could do it justice."
No woman, regardless of age, ever tires of a well-placed compliment.
Watching her daughter skillfully charm their guest, Mrs. Bernardo’s eyes gleamed with quiet approval.
"You’re such a sweet talker, dear."
The plump matron’s gaze warmed considerably as she looked at Juliet, then turned to summon her own daughter.
"Amanda, Juliet doesn’t often attend events like these.
Why don’t you introduce her to some of the younger crowd?
No need to keep us company."
Amanda caught her mother’s meaning and nodded in understanding.
Juliet glanced at her own mother for reassurance.
With a gentle smile, Mrs. Bernardo gave a slight nod.
"Alright," Juliet replied, stepping forward with a bright smile.
"Amanda, I appreciate your help." "Don’t mention it!
Let me introduce you to some of my closest friends first."
Laughing together, the two young women walked off.
The plump woman watched them go before turning back to Mrs. Bernardo with a knowing smile.
"Juliet does seem more poised than Queen..."
Mrs. Bernardo smiled in quiet agreement.
Not far away, Juliet overheard every word, the corners of her lips curling into a deeper smile.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room...
"Uncle, please continue your conversation.
I’ll go greet someone over there."
Harrison had just finished introducing Bernardo’s father, Stephen, and a few familiar business partners to each other before excusing himself from the social circle.
Clutching his wine glass, he turned and strode purposefully toward Mr. Thomas.
Stephen watched Harrison’s retreating figure, his smiling eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Harrison approached Mr. Thomas with a raised glass, his smile polished yet calculated.
Mr. Thomas’s grip tightened around his cane as he studied the younger man before him, his knuckles whitening with suppressed fury.
Forcing his expression into something resembling amusement, he narrowed his piercing eyes and replied with deliberate levity.
"Now, now, ’Mr. Harrison—such formality is hardly necessary."
In all their previous dealings, Harrison had never shown him such courtesy.
Was this sudden deference born of guilt, or was there something more beneath the surface?
"Thomas and I go way back," Harrison countered smoothly, his gaze sharp with unspoken scrutiny.
"Business is business, but at an event , there’s no need to stand on ceremony."
Harrison took a leisurely sip of his drink before adding, "Speaking of Thomas—where is he?"
His eyes swept the room with theatrical curiosity, a smirk playing at his lips.
"The banquet’s about to start. It’s not like him to be late."
As if you don’t know exactly why he’s absent.
* Mr. Thomas’s jaw clenched imperceptibly, the veneer of his smile cracking under the weight of rising anger.
The words burned in his throat, but he swallowed them down, his fingers digging deeper into the cane’s handle.
Harrison took in Mr.Thomas’s expression, a fleeting shadow passing deep within his eyes.
The next moment, his brows furrowed.
Did something happen?"
Mr. Thomas knew his expression had betrayed him and quickly softened his demeanor.
"Forgive my outburst, President Harrison," he said, his voice low and displeased, his face tight with irritation.
"It’s just that reckless brat—he doesn’t know what’s important.
A gathering , and he dares to skip it without a second thought."
Mr. Thomas clenched his jaw, adding darkly, "Once this is over, I’ll make sure he learns his lesson."
*What a cunning old fox—not a single crack in his armor.*
Realizing he wouldn’t get anything useful from Mr. Thomas, Harrison abandoned his probing.
After exchanging a few more polite words, he picked up his wine glass and walked away. *Damn little bastard.*
*Bullying others with power—sooner or later, the tables will turn.*
Mr. Thomas watched Harrison’s retreating figure, his gaze growing colder, his grip tightening around his glass.
With a sharp snap, the glass shattered in his hand.
A waiter noticed the scene and immediately stepped forward to escort Mr.Thomas away for handling.
Harrison paused mid-step at the commotion behind him.
Glancing back at Mr. Thomas being led away by the attendant, the smirk on his lips deepened.
Seems Thomas isn’t doing too well.
Resuming his stride, he headed toward Mr. Bernardo and the others.
"Look, Queen’s here," someone remarked as the music shifted, drawing attention to the entrance.
"But who’s that American guy next to her?"
"Never seen him before, but damn, he’s handsome."
"And who are the couple behind them?"
Since this charity gala catered to an international crowd, unfamiliar faces were everywhere—fueling far more lively chatter than usual.
To complement Taylor, Queen had abandoned her usual bold, eye-catching style. Instead, she wore an Alessandra Rich black strapless dress with ruffled detailing, paired with Stuart Weitzman heels in the same shade.
Her chestnut-brown curls cascaded freely down her back.
The sleek, timeless cut accentuated her natural allure and those endless legs effortlessly.
Every man who noticed her couldn’t help but think one thing:
The Bernardo sisters were like night and day—identical in looks, yet worlds apart in everything else.
The woman trailing behind wore a light blue one-shouldered, tiered gown that stood out like a breath of fresh air amidst the sea of classic dark-toned evening dresses.
Her gaze swept across the banquet hall, disappointment flickering in her eyes.
"Where are Sinclair and the others?
I was so looking forward to seeing Camilla steal the show," she murmured under her breath.
She wanted these overdressed foreign women to witness what true beauty—the kind that hailed from San Francisco—looked like.
There was a certain pride in that.
Vicente watched Melissa’s starstruck admiration for Camilla, his lips curving into a helpless yet affectionate smile.
Unlike the men, most of the women’s attention was riveted on the two gentlemen nearby.
The man standing beside Queen was dressed in a sharply tailored dark gray suit, his features classically handsome, his expression warm and composed.
His dark, slightly narrowed eyes held a faint, gentle amusement.
Taylor had the striking good looks of an Eastern gentleman, but what drew people in even more was the quiet, jade-like elegance that seemed to radiate from him.