“Vanessa understands what loyalty really means,” Daniel proclaimed, his amplified voice rolling through the hall.

He set a lingering hand on her bare shoulder, a gesture so blatant the older wives at my table shifted in their seats.

“When her parents faced a brutal foreclosure last month, she didn’t flinch. She sacrificed. She worked hard. She protected the people she loves by paying off their mortgage in full.

That is the kind of fierce integrity we value at Thorne Industries.”

He didn’t look at me. Not once.

At my table, Daniel’s mother, Eleanor, leaned over. A breathtaking emerald brooch ringed with crushed diamonds rode the lapel of her Chanel blazer.

She touched it, her manicured fingers grazing the stone, then glanced pointedly at my swollen stomach and sighed, loud enough for the other women to hear.

“It’s a shame, really,” she murmured, her voice thick with saccharine pity.

“Some women build empires and protect families, like our dear Vanessa. Daniel bought me this emerald just yesterday to celebrate. He’s such a provider.

Others… well, they just become expensive, lethargic burdens. Don’t you think, Evelyn?”

A ripple of nervous, malicious laughter moved around the table.

I said nothing. I didn’t glare. I didn’t cry.