Chapter 6

Cedar's POV

My gaze locked with the piercing blue eyes of Ridley Sterling himself. I could see the sharp line of his jaw and the perfect symmetry of his features. I felt, in that moment, that no magazine photo could ever truly capture his presence. His expression remained impassive, but something flickered in those eyes—recognition? Curiosity?

"Mr. Sterling," I managed, quickly releasing my grip on his arm. "I apologize. I wasn't watching where—"

"Cedar!"

The sharp call of my name made me wince. I turned to see Selena emerging from the ladies' room, her expression morphing from irritation to calculated charm in the span of a heartbeat. She must have heard the commotion and come to investigate. Now, seeing who I'd collided with, her entire demeanor transformed—back straightening, lips curving into a practiced smile, eyes lighting with opportunity.

She approached with practiced grace, her designer heels clicking against the marble floor. The surprise on her face was so perfectly arranged it could have been painted there.

"Why are you so reckless?" she said with disdain. Then, with a conspiratorial smile toward Ridley, she added, "Mr. Sterling, please forgive my stepsister's clumsiness. She was adopted, you know—didn't have the benefit of proper upbringing."

She deliberately raised her voice just enough for nearby guests to turn their heads. Several wealthy patrons glanced our way, expressions ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled disdain.

"Unlike me," Selena continued, inching closer to Ridley. "I was raised with the finest education." She tilted her head, exposing the elegant line of her neck. "I've long admired your company's design philosophy, Mr. Sterling. Your minimalist approach to luxury spaces is revolutionary..."

As she spoke, I watched Ridley Sterling take a deliberate step backward, creating distance between himself and Selena. His face remained a perfect mask of indifference, but something cold had entered his gaze.

"Miss Wright," he interrupted, his voice low but clear enough to carry to those nearby. "Is this what you consider good breeding? Publicly humiliating a member of your own family?"

Selena's perfect smile faltered. "I was only joking, Mr. Sterling. Cedar and I have this playful rapport—"

"This kind of 'joke' speaks volumes about your character." His words were delivered with precision. "People who treat their family members as stepping stones aren't the kind of people Sterling Design Group associates with."

The color drained from Selena's face as she realized her miscalculation. She opened her mouth to respond, but Ridley cut her off.

"Leave." The single word carried the weight of absolute authority. "Now."

A heavy silence fell over our little corner of the gallery. Selena's expression contorted briefly before she schooled it back into something resembling composure. She shot me a venomous look, as if I had orchestrated this humiliation specifically to undermine her.

Around us, guests pretended not to stare while doing exactly that. I caught at least two people discreetly lifting their phones, no doubt capturing this social catastrophe for tomorrow's gossip.

The mortification was overwhelming. I had never wanted to be part of these elite social games, and now I found myself unwittingly at the center of someone else's drama.

"Thank you, Mr. Sterling," I said quietly, "but I should be going as well."

For a brief moment, his eyes met mine again. There was something searching in that gaze, something that made me feel oddly exposed, as though he could see beyond the careful barriers I'd built. But just as quickly, his expression returned to its default state of cool indifference.

I moved swiftly toward the exit, spotting Elara across the room, her face pinched with anger as she watched Selena's retreat. I ducked behind a group of art collectors, using them as cover until I reached the grand staircase.

Outside, the crisp night air felt like salvation. I gulped it down as I walked briskly away from the Drake Hotel, pulling out my phone to order an Uber. Almost immediately, it began to ring—Elara's name flashing on the screen. I declined the call and quickened my pace.

The phone rang again. This time it was Selena. I powered off my device entirely and continued walking until my ride arrived.

All the while, I forced myself to keep my expression composed, to keep my head high, even as a dull ache pressed against my chest. I wouldn't let anyone see my weak side.

Their scheming never really stopped. Even now, they expected me to secure the Sterling Group deal, all while quietly plotting to shove me back into the Wilson project the moment it suited them. In their eyes, I was nothing more than a tool—something to be squeezed for every last drop of value, never a person to be cared for.

I'd given everything to the Wright family. And they saw me as nothing but a transaction to be leveraged.

Before this night, a small, foolish part of me still longed for their approval—for some sign that I mattered beyond what I could do for them. I'd always hoped, somehow, that if I worked hard enough, if I proved myself enough, I might finally earn their love.

Now, sitting in the back of the car as the city lights blurred past, the wind from the open window stung my face. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass, and before I could stop myself, tears slipped down my cheeks—silent, unstoppable. How naive I'd been, thinking I could ever be more than an outsider in their world.

A strange sense of resolve began to crystallize within me. Maybe it was time to stop chasing what would never be given. It may be time for a change.