She marched over and grabbed my arm, trying to drag me into a corner.

“Eleanor! What in God’s name are you doing here?” she hissed, eyes darting around. “Did you rent this dress? Are you insane? This is a billionaire’s gala! You’re embarrassing us! Get out before Liam sees you!”

I looked down at her hand on my arm, then back up at her eyes.

“Take your hand off me, Beatrice,” I said, my voice low but carrying the weight of an anvil. “Before I buy this hotel and have you thrown out into the street.”

She scoffed, a nervous, mocking sound. “You? Buy a hotel? You fix spark plugs in a garage! Security!”

Liam, noticing his mother making a scene, hurried over. When he saw me, his face flushed purple.