Emma Sinclair's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Emma Sinclair stepped into the garden party and scanned the crowd for him. The heir stood near a white canvas pavilion draped in silk. Emma smoothed her dress and moved closer, hoping today would be different. She had attended every event he graced. Still, his eyes slid past her like glass. A tall woman in emerald swept into the pavilion first. She laughed, touched the heir's sleeve, and arranged her cushions like a throne. The pavilion became hers within minutes. Guests began to call it her perch. Emma stepped forward anyway. She smiled. She offered a soft hello. The socialite tilted her head and laughed lightly. "Darling, I don't think we know you," she said, loud enough for three circles to hear. Heads turned. Whispers spread like spilled wine. Emma felt her cheeks burn. She tried to speak, but the socialite had already looped her arm through the heir's elbow. "Come," the socialite said to him. "The brass doors are open downstairs. Only our set tonight." She steered him toward a private lounge with gleaming brass doors. He followed without a glance back. The crowd parted for them and closed behind them like a curtain. Emma stood alone on the lawn. The pavilion sat empty now, claimed but abandoned. She had been named a nobody in front of everyone who mattered. Visibility had failed her for the last time. If she wanted him, she would need a new plan — one the socialite could not laugh away.