14. Birthday banquet

The night of the grand birthday banquet for one of the city's most influential figures arrived, and the air was filled with anticipation. Shirley, ever the social butterfly, had eagerly invited Emma to join her at the event. Emma, who surprisingly had the evening off, agreed to go, albeit with some hesitation. Before heading to the banquet, Shirley took Emma on a shopping spree, insisting she needed a new dress for the occasion.

They arrived at the venue just as the guests were beginning to gather. The banquet had yet to start, and the atmosphere buzzed with the chatter of the elite. As soon as they entered, Shirley suddenly clutched her stomach and grimaced.

"Emma, I need to use the restroom," Shirley said, wincing. "Don't worry, I'll be quick. You stay here and look around."

Emma nodded, feeling a bit uneasy as she watched Shirley hurry off. Left alone, she found a quiet corner to wait, trying to stay out of the spotlight. As she stood there, her eyes scanned the crowd, and then her heart sank. She spotted the last people she ever wanted to see—her cruel stepmother, the fake heiress who had taken her place, and her father, Victor. Her grandfather, whom she had hoped might attend, was absent due to other obligations that evening.

The fake heiress, always eager to assert her dominance, spotted Emma from across the room. With a sickeningly sweet smile, she turned to Victor and said, "Father, I'm going to greet Emma. It's only right that I show her some kindness."

Victor, as usual, nodded in approval, completely oblivious to the true nature of the situation. The fake heiress sauntered over, her smile fading the moment she was out of Victor's line of sight. Her expression turned cold and condescending as she addressed Emma.

"Well, well, if it isn't our little runaway," she sneered. "Tell me, did you sneak in here? This isn't exactly the type of event someone of your current… status would be invited to. It's rather pathetic, really."

Emma, who had spent too many years being passive and accepting of such abuse, felt a surge of defiance. She met the fake heiress's gaze with a steely glare.

"I didn't sneak in," Emma said calmly, pulling out the invitation card Shirley had given her. "I was invited. Unlike you, I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not."

The fake heiress's eyes widened as she saw the invitation, but before she could respond, Emma's stepmother swooped in, her face twisted with disdain.

"Who's to say that invitation isn't a forgery?" she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "And look at that dress—so gaudy, it's probably a knockoff. There's no way you could afford something like that now, not on your pitiful wages."

Emma opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Shirley reappeared, her expression fierce as she walked up beside Emma.

"Is there a problem here?" Shirley asked, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Emma's stepmother's eyes narrowed at Shirley, but before she could speak, Shirley continued, "I bought Emma that dress myself. It's not a knockoff. And as for the invitation, it's very real. If you have a problem with that, you're welcome to take it up with me."

Just then, a commotion at the entrance caught everyone's attention. The famous designer who had created Emma's dress had just arrived at the banquet. Spotting the confrontation, she walked over, her elegant figure and commanding presence causing a ripple of whispers among the guests.

"Is there an issue here?" the designer asked, her gaze sweeping over the group before settling on Emma. "Ah, I see you're wearing one of my designs. How lovely it looks on you."

The fake heiress's face flushed red with anger and embarrassment as the designer's words confirmed the authenticity of Emma's dress. Desperate to save face, she reached out, ready to slap Emma, but this time Emma was ready. In one swift motion, she caught the fake heiress's wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Without hesitation, Emma's free hand came up and delivered a sharp slap across the fake heiress's cheek.

The sound echoed through the room, and for a moment, there was stunned silence. All eyes were on Emma, who stood tall, her expression unwavering.

"That's for everything you've done to me,"Emma said, her voice steady and filled with years of pent-up anger. "And it's just the beginning. Don't think I'll let you walk all over me anymore."

Shirley, watching from the side, broke into a wide grin and began clapping. "Bravo, Emma! It's about time someone put that witch in her place!" she cheered, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

The fake heiress stumbled back, holding her cheek in shock and fury, but before she could retaliate, the sound of music filled the air, signaling the start of the banquet. The host's voice echoed through the hall, inviting everyone to take their seats.

Victor, who had been watching the whole scene in stunned silence, finally spoke, his voice trembling with a mix of confusion and anger. "What is the meaning of this, Emma?"

But before Emma could respond, Shirley stepped in front of her protectively. "If you want to discuss anything, Mr. Hamilton, I suggest you do it later. Right now, the banquet is starting, and it would be wise to avoid making a scene."

Victor hesitated, clearly torn between his authority as a father and the reality of the situation. Finally, he gave a stiff nod, his expression hardening as he turned away, ushering the fake heiress and her stepmother along with him.

As they walked away, Shirley turned to Emma, a proud smile on her face. "You handled that perfectly," she said softly. "I knew you had it in you."

Emma let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I'm just tired of being walked over, Shirley. They've had it coming for a long time."

"And they got exactly what they deserved," Shirley replied, linking her arm with Emma's as they walked towards their seats. "Now, let's enjoy the rest of the evening. You've earned it."

As they sat down, Emma couldn't help but glance around, half expecting another confrontation. But as the banquet began, with everyone's attention turning to the host and the celebration, she finally allowed herself to relax. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of victory, however small, and with Shirley by her side, she knew she wasn't alone.