Suddenly, my cell phone vibrated on the mattress.

It was an exclusive link sent directly from Luke. I opened the page with a trembling hand, and the live broadcast of the charity gala appeared on my screen.

The grand hotel ballroom on Michigan Avenue sparkled with massive crystal chandeliers, white roses, and flashing press cameras. There stood Christopher Albright, looking absolutely impeccable in his black tuxedo, wearing his signature cool smile.

Brenda clung tightly to his right arm.

My expensive dress brushed gracefully against the floor as she walked. My diamond earrings sparkled at her neck, and my grandmother’s gold bracelet gleamed on her wrist like a direct mockery of my life.

“Mrs. Albright looks absolutely spectacular tonight,” a red-carpet commentator said into a camera.