Chapter 8 - The Fall of the Vance Heir
Beatrice swayed on her feet. She reached out blindly, grabbing the edge of a mahogany display table to keep from collapsing.
Her daughter. The one she had ostracized. The one she had forced to stand in the corner of family gatherings. The daughter she introduced with quiet apologies to her socialite peers.
She was a national hero.
"Harper..." Beatrice whispered, her voice cracking as a desperate, calculating realization took hold. If the high-society crowd knew she had mistreated a national hero, her social standing in Washington would be instantly obliterated.
Beatrice forced a wet smile and took a step toward me, arms opening. "Harper, my darling child! I... we had no idea! Why did you carry such a burden in secret? You know your mother has always been so proud of your dedication—"
"Do not touch me, Beatrice."
My voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It was the same calm, razor-edged tone I used when calling in artillery coordinates under fire.
Beatrice froze mid-stride, her arms hovering awkwardly in the air.
"For ten years, you treated my service like a disease," I said, looking directly into the eyes of the woman who birthed me. "When Grandma Eleanor pinned my first gold bars on my uniform, she told me that people who need you to stay small will call your courage rebellion. You spent my entire adult life trying to make me small so Preston could look tall."
Preston flinched as if struck.
"Harper, please, this is my engagement party!" Preston pleaded, looking frantically at Julianna, whose father was already scowling deeply at the entrance of the ballroom. "You’re ruining everything I’ve worked for!"
"You didn't work for anything, Preston," Captain Caleb Sterling spoke up, his voice ringing with cold disdain. "You used your family name to solicit military contracts you don't understand, while mocking the very soldiers who die protecting the borders you monetize. As of sixteen hundred hours today, the Pentagon has permanently blacklisted your firm from all defense procurement."
Julianna dropped Preston’s arm as if he had caught fire.
"Julianna?" Preston turned to her, his voice cracking in panic. "Babe, wait, we can fix this—"
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"Don't touch me, Preston," Julianna hissed, stepping away from him in front of all three hundred guests. "My father cannot be associated with this. You lied about your influence. You lied about everything."
She pulled the three-carat diamond ring from her finger, dropped it onto the floor at his feet, and walked out of the ballroom without looking back.
