For a moment, she didn't recognize the woman in the mirror.
Not because she looked rich.
She didn't.
She looked like Naomi.
But there was something different in her eyes.
Confidence.
Perhaps even defiance.
Isaiah appeared in the doorway.
He stared.
"Wow."
Naomi laughed.
"Is that good?"
"Very good."
He walked closer.
"You're actually going."
"Yes."
"Are you nervous?"
"Terrified."
He smiled.
"Then you're probably doing something important."
Naomi looked at him.
"You've become wise."
"I've been watching you."
She smiled.
Then her expression became serious.
"If anyone says anything tonight, you leave."
"I know."
"If they embarrass you—"
"I know."
"If Evan—"
"Isaiah."
He stopped.
Naomi took his hand.
"I'm not going there because I need their approval."
She squeezed his fingers.
"I'm going because I don't want their cruelty to decide where I can stand."
Isaiah nodded.
"Then go."
A few hours later, a black car stopped in front of the Carrington Foundation's gala venue.
Naomi stepped out.
The building looked like something from another world.
Huge glass doors.
White lights.
Photographers.
Luxury vehicles lined the entrance.
Men in tailored tuxedos walked beside women wearing gowns covered in diamonds.
Naomi took one breath.
Then another.
She entered.
Inside, conversations filled the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.
Waiters carried champagne through the crowd.
A string quartet played near the stage.
Naomi walked slowly.
Several people glanced at her.
Some looked confused.
Others whispered.
She ignored them.
Then someone near the bar recognized her.
"Isn't that the cleaner from Carrington Plaza?"
The words traveled quickly.
Heads turned.
A woman covered her mouth.
Another man laughed.
Naomi heard every word.
But she kept walking.
Across the room, Evan Carrington stood surrounded by investors and friends.
He was smiling.
Then he saw her.
His smile disappeared.
For the first time that evening, Evan looked genuinely surprised.
He had expected a nervous woman in an inexpensive dress.
Instead, Naomi entered the ballroom with her shoulders straight and her head high.
She did not look around for permission.
She did not search for Evan.
She simply walked forward.
One of Evan's friends leaned toward him.
"She actually came."
Evan said nothing.
Then a strange thing happened.
An elderly man standing near the stage suddenly turned toward Naomi.
His face changed.
His glass slipped slightly in his hand.
He stared at her as if he had seen a ghost.
"Impossible," he whispered.
Naomi stopped.
The old man began walking toward her.
People moved aside.
Evan watched in confusion.
The man reached Naomi and looked closely at her face.
Then he said four words that silenced the entire ballroom.
"Where did you get that?"
Naomi frowned.
"Excuse me?"
The old man pointed toward the small silver pendant around her neck.
The pendant had belonged to her grandmother.
Naomi touched it instinctively.
"This?"
The man's face had gone pale.
"That pendant belonged to Eleanor Brooks."
Naomi froze.
Evan's expression changed.
Eleanor Brooks.
The name meant nothing to most people in the room.
But Evan knew it.
Everyone in his family knew it.
Because Eleanor Brooks had once been the woman who helped build the foundation upon which the Carrington fortune had been constructed.
And according to the official family history, she had disappeared more than twenty years ago.
The old man stared at Naomi.
"Who are you?"
Naomi opened her mouth.
Before she could answer, Evan stepped forward.
"Wait."
The entire ballroom went silent.
Evan looked at the pendant.
Then at Naomi.
For the first time since she had met him, there was no amusement in his eyes.
There was fear.
And Naomi suddenly realized something.
The invitation had been intended to make her the joke of the evening.
But nobody in that room understood yet that she had walked into the wrong party for them.
Because the woman they had invited to humiliate was carrying a secret connected to the very family standing before her.
And before the night was over, every person in that ballroom would learn that wealth could buy almost anything.
Except the truth.
Chapter 4
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The orchestra had stopped playing.
The conversations around the ballroom had disappeared beneath a silence so complete that Naomi could hear the faint ticking of the enormous clock above the entrance.
The elderly man was still staring at the pendant around her neck.
His name was Richard Hale.
Naomi had seen him before in newspapers. He was a retired attorney who had served as legal counsel for the Carrington family for decades.
He looked at Naomi as though he were trying to remember a face from another lifetime.
"Where did you get that pendant?" he asked again.
Naomi instinctively covered it with her hand.
"It belonged to my grandmother."
"What was her name?"
"Eleanor Brooks."
A murmur passed through the crowd.
Richard's face lost what little color remained.
Evan stepped closer.
"Mr. Hale."
Richard did not answer.
"Who was Eleanor Brooks?" Evan asked.
The old attorney looked at him.
"You don't remember?"
Evan's eyebrows drew together.
"Remember what?"
Richard looked back at Naomi.
"Your grandmother," he said slowly, "wasn't simply Eleanor Brooks."
Naomi's heart began beating faster.
"What do you mean?"
Richard glanced around the room.
"This isn't the place."
Evan's voice hardened.
"Then tell me where the place is."
Richard hesitated.
"The private library."
Evan immediately turned to one of the security officers.
"Close the doors."
Naomi looked around.
"What is happening?"
Nobody answered her.
Two security guards moved toward the ballroom entrance.
The guests began whispering again.
Evan approached Naomi.
"Come with me."
She stepped backward.
"No."
He stopped.
Naomi's voice was quiet, but firm.
"You don't get to order me around."
A few people nearby exchanged surprised looks.
Evan stared at her.
Perhaps he had never heard anyone speak to him that way.
Not at a company meeting.
Not at a business negotiation.
Certainly not at one of his own events.
"I'm not trying to order you," he said.
"You invited me here to make fun of me."
Evan's jaw tightened.
"I know."
"Then why should I trust you now?"
He had no immediate answer.
For the first time that night, Evan looked ashamed.
"I didn't know."
"You didn't know what?"
"About any of this."
Naomi laughed softly.
"That doesn't make it better."
Richard stepped between them.
"Both of you need to come with me."
Naomi looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because if you are truly Eleanor Brooks's granddaughter, then there are documents you need to see."
Evan stared at him.
"What documents?"
Richard looked directly at him.
"Your grandfather's private records."
Evan's expression changed.
"My grandfather destroyed those."
Richard shook his head.
"No."
He lowered his voice.
"He only wanted everyone to believe he had."
The library was located behind the ballroom.
Unlike the grand public rooms, it was dark and old-fashioned. Wooden shelves covered the walls from floor to ceiling. Hundreds of books sat behind glass doors. A massive desk stood near the fireplace.
Richard locked the door behind them.
There were only four people in the room.
Naomi.
Evan.
Richard.
And Evan's mother, Victoria Carrington, who had followed them inside without being invited.
She closed the door behind her.
"Richard," she said, "what is going on?"
He looked at her.
"Ask your son."
Victoria frowned.
Evan shook his head.
"I don't know anything."
Richard placed both hands on the desk.
"Twenty-seven years ago, your grandfather, Jonathan Carrington, was preparing to acquire a software company called Brooks Systems."
Naomi's eyes widened.
"Brooks?"
Richard nodded.
"Your grandmother founded it."
Naomi stared at him.
"My grandmother was a businesswoman?"