My sister threw red wine across my dress uniform and told me I didn’t belong in that ballroom, my father told security to take me out before I embarrassed his future son-in-law, and I looked at the stain running over my ribbons, checked the countdown on my watch, and said, “You’re right. I don’t,” because in sixty seconds the room was about to learn why I had really come

The sound of glass shattering against the marble floor echoed through the ballroom like a sudden gunshot. A second later, a cold and wet sensation slammed into my chest as red wine began to soak into my Class A uniform.

The dark liquid spread rapidly across the fabric while dripping over my ribbons and sliding down the polished buttons I had carefully aligned less than an hour ago. Judging by the rich aroma, it was an expensive vintage that was being wasted for the sake of a predictable tantrum.

The live band did not stop playing their smooth melodies because this venue likely charged a premium to maintain the atmosphere regardless of the drama. I remained standing completely still without flinching or attempting to wipe the stain from my chest.

Around the room, conversations froze mid-sentence and guests watched with forks hovering in the air as three hundred people in formal attire found something more interesting than their dinner. All eyes were fixed on me as I slowly lifted my gaze to meet the person standing before me.

Jessica stood just two steps away with her arm still extended from the throw while an empty crystal glass dangled loosely between her manicured fingers. Her white silk gown looked like it belonged on the cover of a high-fashion magazine because it was perfectly clean and untouched.

She curled her lips into a sneer as if she had just successfully corrected a disgusting mistake in her personal space. Seriously, she said loud enough for half the ballroom to hear, you could not even bother to change into something appropriate before showing up at my event?

I had not uttered a single word since walking into the gala and taking exactly four steps past the grand entrance. That was all the time it took for the peace to shatter into pieces on the floor.

Preston stepped in beside her while adjusting his expensive cufflinks as if this entire scene were merely a minor inconvenience to his evening. He did not look at me with any sense of family connection but rather viewed me as a problem that should have been handled much earlier.

What on earth is that, he asked while nodding toward my military uniform with a look of pure disdain. Do you actually believe this is some kind of local charity event for the underprivileged?