The Thorne Heiress Unveiling Shadow novel Chapter 18

A week later, a thick, cream-colored envelope arrived at Thorne Crest, hand-delivered by a courier. It was sealed with the wax insignia of the New York Children's Foundation.

Lillian Thorne opened it in the sunlit morning room, her expression a mixture of anticipation and concern.

"It's the invitation for the Foundation Ball," she announced, placing the engraved card on the table. "The absolute pinnacle of the New York social calendar."

Her eyes found Evelyn, who was quietly reading a book on financial derivatives by the window. "Darling, this will be your official debut into society as a Thorne. I know it can be... overwhelming. The press, the people... they can be vultures." Lillian shuddered delicately, recalling the daughter of another prominent family who had worn the wrong designer to this very event three years ago and was so savaged by the society columnists that she'd spent the next six months in a "wellness retreat" in Switzerland. "They feast on newcomers, and after all the drama with the Suttons, they will be watching you under a microscope."

Lillian's mind was already racing, shifting into the protective gear of a society general deploying her troops. "We need to prepare. I'll call Lucinda in Paris for a gown. We can have the top stylists from Vogue fly in for fittings. We'll make sure you are the most beautiful, most impeccably dressed woman in the room." Her intentions were pure, a mother's desire to arm her daughter for a social battlefield she herself had navigated for decades.

Evelyn looked up from her book. She understood her mother's concern came from a place of love, a deep-seated fear born from years of helplessness. For eighteen years, Lillian could not protect her daughter, and now she was trying to make up for it with couture armor and a phalanx of stylists. The Suttons had used these events to humiliate her, forcing her into drab, ill-fitting dresses and making her stand in the corner like a piece of unwanted furniture. To Lillian, a stunning appearance wasn't just about beauty; it was about projecting a power that could not be questioned.

But Evelyn didn't need that kind of armor anymore. She had forged her own.

She held the invitation like a golden ticket, her knuckles white. Her eyes gleamed with a manic, desperate light. This was her chance. Her grand return.

"This is it," she declared to Caroline, who was anxiously pacing the living room, wringing her hands. "This is where I turn everything around. Kaelen will be there. Everyone will be there. I will be so beautiful, so perfect, that they will have no choice but to forget that... that insignificant little episode." She said the words like an incantation, willing them to be true.

Her obsession with being the star of the evening began to take root, a desperate, all-consuming need to reclaim her stolen spotlight. This was no longer just about social climbing; it was about survival. She wasn't just planning to attend a party. She was planning a conquest, with Kaelen Blackwood as the ultimate prize that would validate her entire existence.