Chapter 115

Anastasia leaned in close, her voice venomous. "Look at you, Charlotte, playing dress-up in our world. We all know you're just a poor little nobody from that rundown part of town. Your family? Trash. Your dad probably still owes money to half the city, and your mom hawks cheap knockoffs like they're designer. How does it feel to be the charity case at a party like this? Howard's grandfather might buy you a ring, but he'll never buy you class."
Charlotte's blood boiled. The words hit like a slap, dredging up memories of her parents' greed and the life she'd clawed her way out of. Beyond her tolerance, her fist clenched around her glass. She straightened, her voice sharp and clear, cutting through the nearby chatter like a knife. "Class? You wouldn't know it if it bit you, Anastasia. At least my family earned their scars fighting for something real. Yours? You're just a spoiled adopted leech, sucking off the Carters like a parasite. Without their name, you'd be nothing but a two-bit drama queen begging for scraps."
Natalie choked on her drink, setting it down with a clink. Even Karla whipped around, her face paling. The insult hung in the air, bold and unfiltered, drawing every gaze within twenty feet. Charlotte held her chin high, pride burning in her chest, refusing to back down even as the room's attention pinned her in place.