Chapter 58: THE LAST THING I NEED IS DRAMA

The chaos at Eleanor’s house ended with her literally slumped on the floor like a dramatic Renaissance painting. Rowan was hovering over her, looking stressed, while I just sat there wondering if I should call an ambulance or just order a pizza because the entertainment value was a 10/10.

But honestly? We didn’t have time for her fainting era. My mom, Isabella, had officially hit the launch button on the wedding, and when Isabella Simmons starts a project, you either get on the train or get run over by it.

Two days later, the "Simmons Legacy Gala" was happening. This wasn't just a party; it was a soft launch for the wedding. My mom wanted to show the world—and the haters—that the Simmons-Pierce merger was the only thing that mattered this season.

I was in my room, sitting in front of a mirror while a glam team did things to my face that I didn't even have names for. My sisters, Rose and Rosa, were lounging on my bed, sipping on smoothies and judging my shoe options.

"Althea, you have to go with the platforms," Rose said, pointing a manicured finger at a pair of white silk heels. "You need the height to look down on Eleanor when she inevitably tries to hug you tonight."

Rosa laughed. "Bold of you to assume she’ll even get close. Isabella has the guest list tighter than a corset. Eleanor is lucky she’s even invited after that little stunt at her house."

"She’s literally obsessed with our mom now," I said, wincing as the hair stylist pulled a curl. "The second she woke up from her faint, she started calling me 'daughter' and 'my darling.' It was actually jump-scare material. She’s definitely going to try and act like she and Mom are besties tonight."

"Good luck to her," Rose smirked. "Mom eats people like Eleanor for breakfast."

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a custom gown that was "quiet luxury" but made a loud statement. I felt like a billion dollars, but inside, I was still a little jittery.

The JC drama was still fresh, and even though she was "blacklisted," the world of the elite is small. Shadows linger.

When Rowan and I pulled up to the venue, it looked like the Oscars. Searchlights were hitting the clouds, and the red carpet was packed with photographers.

Rowan took my hand as we got out of the car. He looked unreal in a black-on-black tuxedo. "Ready to be the most talked-about couple in the city?" he whispered.

"As long as no one faints on me today, I'm good," I joked.

The ballroom was a literal dream. Crystal chandeliers, white orchids everywhere, and a guest list that included every CEO, influencer, and old-money legend in the country. My mom was at the center of the room, looking like a literal queen in a gold gown. She spotted us and gave a small, satisfied nod. Mission accomplished.

But then, I saw the weird duo entering.

Eleanor was practically vibrating with excitement. She was wearing a dress that was definitely trying too hard, and she was clutching Alan’s arm like her life depended on it. Alan looked as bored as ever, his eyes scanning the room like he was looking for the nearest exit.

Eleanor spotted my mom and zoomed in like a heat-seeking missile.

"Isabella! Darling!" Eleanor squealed, loud enough to make a few people turn around.

My mom turned slowly. She didn't move toward her; she just waited. "Eleanor. Glad you could make it. I heard you had a little... health scare the other day?"

Eleanor’s face went pink, but she pushed through. "Oh, just a dizzy spell! The excitement of the news, you know? We are so thrilled to officially be family. I was telling Alan just this morning how much I’ve always admired the Simmons legacy."

Mom gave her a look that was so cold it could have preserved a steak. "Is that so? Funny, I remember my daughter saying you were worried about the 'minimal' cost of the wedding."

Eleanor let out a fake, high-pitched laugh. "A joke! Purely a joke! You know how I am, always kidding."

Alan stood there silently, looking at his watch. I caught his eye for a second, and he gave me this weird, blank stare that sent a shiver down my spine.

There was something so "off" about him. He didn't look like a man in love with a woman who just had his baby; he looked like a man waiting for a paycheck.

About an hour into the gala, the vibe was perfect. People were toast-ing us, the music was hitting, and I was actually starting to relax. Then, the double doors at the entrance opened again.

The room didn't go silent, but a murmur started to ripple through the crowd.

Walking toward us was a guy I hadn't seen in three years. He was tall, with messy dark hair and a smile that always meant trouble. Julian. My ex-best friend and the guy who had a massive crush on me right before I met Rowan.

Rowan’s grip on my waist tightened instantly. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

"What is he doing here?" Rowan muttered, his voice dropping an octave.

"I have no idea," I whispered back. "I haven't talked to Julian since... well, since we moved."

Julian walked straight up to us, looking way too confident for someone who wasn't on the official mood board.

"Althea," he said, his voice smooth. He ignored Rowan completely and took my hand, giving it a light kiss. "You look incredible. I heard the news and had to come see it for myself. The 'Wedding of the Season,' huh?"

"Julian," I said, pulling my hand back politely. "It’s been a while. How did you even get an invite?"

He flashed a grin. "Your mom and my dad are doing a big tech deal. I figured I’d tag along. Plus, I couldn't let my favorite girl get married without saying hi."

Rowan stepped forward, his "protective mode" at 100%. "She’s not your girl, Julian. And the 'hi' has been said. You can go find the bar now."

Julian didn't look intimidated. He just chuckled. "Relax, Rowan. I’m just here for the party. Though, Althea, we should catch up later. I found something interesting the other day... something about a certain 'wedding planner' you used to know."

My heart stopped. "What do you mean?"

"Not here," Julian said, his eyes flicking to the crowd. "Too many ears. But let’s just say, JC isn't as 'gone' as you think she is. Some people are better at hiding than others."

Before I could ask anything else, Julian winked and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake.

Rowan was fuming. "He’s lying. He’s just trying to get in your head because he’s bitter."

"But what if he’s not?" I asked, my voice shaking. "Rowan, Julian has connections in the tech world. If he found something, we have to listen."

But I didn't have time to process Julian’s warning because Eleanor was back, and this time, she looked actually panicked. She pulled me aside, her eyes darting around.

"Althea, dear," she hissed. "Have you seen Alan? He said he was going to the restroom twenty minutes ago and he hasn't come back. The baby is with the nanny in the lounge, but Alan... he’s not answering his phone."

I looked around the room. Alan was gone. Julian was gone. And my mom was busy talking to the press.

I walked toward the balcony to get some air, my mind spinning. As I stepped outside into the cool night air, I saw a shadow moving near the garden hedge. It was Alan. He was talking to someone in a dark hoodie.

I leaned over the railing, trying to see who it was. The person in the hoodie turned slightly, and the moonlight hit their face.

It wasn't JC.

It was a woman I’d never seen before, but she was handing Alan a thick envelope—the kind that usually holds a lot of cash or some very dirty secrets.

Just then, my phone buzzed in my hand. An unknown number.

The Simmons name can buy a gala, but it can’t buy the truth. Check the baby’s nursery tonight, Althea. Ask Eleanor who the father REALLY is.

I looked back at the ballroom, where Eleanor was fake-smiling at a photographer, and then back at Alan in the garden.

The "Wedding of the Century" was officially turning into a crime scene, and the gala wasn't even over yet.

This was meant to be a fun party I’d enjoy and take things off my mind, the last thing I need is drama, and I’m going to handle all this quick, my way.