Chapter_18
Chapter 18
“Emmeline!” Alana’s voice dripped with false sweetness as she approached her cousin, a malicious gleam hidden beneath her smile. “If you didn’t have a dress to wear tonight, I could have lent you one! I have plenty of better-quality dresses, after all.”
Emmeline, unfazed, chuckled lightly. “Well, this dress was only 99 dollars, including shipping! It’s perfect for tonight,” she added with a playful grin.
Alana’s face instantly soured. “What do you mean? Are you mocking our family with your cheap fashion?” Without warning, Alana shoved Emmeline, causing her to stumble and nearly fall.
But just as Emmeline’s balance faltered, a pair of strong hands caught her and steadied her. It was Abel Ryker, who had just arrived.
He wrapped an arm protectively around her waist, his eyes cold as he turned to face Alana. “What’s wrong with a 99-dollar dress? Emmeline looks better than any other lady here tonight.”
“Mr… Mr. Abel?” Alana stammered, suddenly unsure of herself. “I… I was just teasing my cousin. You’re right, her dress is beautiful!” she quickly backpedaled, eager to avoid any confrontation.
Abel raised an eyebrow, his expression unamused. “Don’t you owe her an apology?”
Alana’s face turned pale as she realized the attention they were drawing from the guests. “I… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.
Adrien Ryker approached just in time, his tone icy and sharp. “Did you really think you could just push my wife around and get away with it?” He extended an arm toward Emmeline, trying to pull her to his side, but Emmeline instinctively stepped back, creating distance between them.
“Emmeline…” Alana pouted, her voice dripping with false sincerity. “I’m sorry. I was just messing around.”
“My daughter-in-law looks amazing in anything, including this dress!” Julianna Campbell announced, her voice full of pride as she tried to shift the attention away from the tension.
“So does Alana!” Rosaline Turner chimed in, her voice laced with defensiveness. “A fine lady indeed!”
“Hmph, she’s not even close to Emmeline,” Julianna snickered, smirking as she referred to Emmeline’s three children. “It’s three against one! Isn’t that right, son?”
“That’s right,” Adrien agreed with a grin. “Not everyone can achieve what Emmeline has done!”
Emmeline, feeling the weight of the familial tension, moved to a quiet corner of the room, willing herself to disappear. She had no interest in their bickering.
Alana, though still seething from the dress incident, knew she had to keep her cool. She had a bigger plan for Emmeline, and tonight would be the night she put it into motion. She glanced toward her Aunt Alondra, signaling that it was time to start.
Alondra, understanding the silent cue, made her way to the center of the hall and raised her wine glass, catching the attention of the room. “To express our gratitude for showering us with your presence tonight, Alana will delight us all with a special piano piece!” She clapped her hands encouragingly.
Alana, looking graceful and poised, lifted the skirt of her gown and waltzed toward the grand piano. The crowd watched in awe as she took her seat, her fingers expertly poised over the keys. With a flick of her wrists, a beautiful melody filled the room, captivating the audience.
“Truly the daughter of an upper-class family! She could rival any famous piano soloist!” a guest murmured in admiration.
“That’s true,” another chimed in. “She’s not just beautiful but also talented. I suppose that’s the type of woman who should marry a Ryker.”
Alana soaked in the praise, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She knew her performance had done its job—captivating the crowd and reinforcing her place as the perfect match for Adrien. Watch out, Emmeline. Your time here is running out.
When Alana finished her piece, the applause was deafening. She stood and took a graceful bow, her smile wide and proud. Then, turning to Emmeline with a challenge in her eyes, she called out, “Emmeline, you should play something for the crowd too!”
Emmeline blinked in surprise. “Me?” She pointed at herself, unsure of what Alana was playing at.
“Emma? Emma’s not a pianist,” Alondra quickly joined in, her voice dripping with mockery. “I’ve raised her since she was a teenager, and I’ve never seen her touch a piano!” She turned toward Emmeline, eyes narrowing. “Isn’t that right, Emma? Do you even know how to play the piano?”
“I… I know how to play a little,” Emmeline said, her fingers pinching together to indicate her minimal skill.
“I think you’re being way too modest, Emma!” Alana trilled, her voice sweet but tinged with malice. “Why don’t you play something for our dear guests then?”
“Trust me, she’s not being modest,” Alondra reiterated, her voice sharp. “She can’t even play a simple tune. You’re asking too much from her!”
“Why don’t you play something simple, then, Em?” Alana coaxed, her smile widening. “What about a nursery rhyme?”
The room fell into an expectant silence as all eyes turned to Emmeline. There was no way she could escape this humiliation now.
