The gala was everything Catherine Blake hated: diamond chandeliers, champagne flutes clinking like weapons, and polished smiles sharper than blades. The Blackridge Winter Fundraiser glimmered under Miami's luxury skyline, hosted at the Blake family's private high-rise—The Sapphire Vault. Every step she took across the marble floor echoed with expectation. Catherine wore the role well. Her gown, a shimmering silver custom Versace, hugged her curves like it had secrets to keep. Her smile, delicate and unreadable, masked the scream inside her chest."Stand straighter, Cate," her father, Richard Blake, hissed through clenched teeth, barely turning from his conversation with a senator.
"You're the future of Blackridge Holdings. Start acting like it.""
You look like you're about to cry," whispered Camille Hartwell, stepping beside her with a champagne flute.
Her icy-blue gown matched her tone—frigid and piercing.
"Don't you have someone else to torment?" Catherine asked through a tight smile.
Camille leaned in. "Just remember—if you collapse tonight, I'll be there to take your crown."
Before Catherine could reply, Ethan Ward arrived fashionably late with a smugness that made her skin crawl. He walked like he owned the air and bent low to kiss her cheek
."My queen," he murmured, low and possessive.
Catherine didn't flinch then, with a practiced showman's grin, he turned to the crowd.
"Everyone! May I have your attention?"
The room silenced as champagne flutes paused mid-air.
"Tonight, I want to honor a woman of grace, beauty, and business genius. My future wife, Catherine Blake."
Applause erupted. Murmured approvals. Flashbulbs popped.Catherine felt her lungs collapse.Her hand trembled. Her vision blurred. Her world—the controlled, sterilized future built around her—snapped like glass under pressure.She dropped the champagne flute.The crash silenced the room.
"I can't do this," she whispered.Gasps. Flashes. Murmurs. Panic.
"Catherine Blake," her father growled, stepping forward.
"You will not embarrass this family."
"I already did," she said, meeting his furious gaze.
"Just by being born."
The crowd parted as she backed away, heels clicking furiously now—like gunshots against marble.
"Cate!" Ethan called.
"Don't make a scene."
She turned and ran.Not out the front. Through the service door, past stunned caterers, into the loading dock. Her stilettos snapped on the asphalt. She kicked them off and bolted barefoot into the night.
Outside, Miami was humid and blinding, the sound of distant waves crashing against luxury docks. Catherine ducked into a back alley, panting. Her heart felt like a prisoner clawing for escape.
"Miss? You okay?" a janitor asked, startled as he swept near the side exit.
"Do I look okay?" she snapped,
Suddenly, a sleek car screeched around the corner.
Ethan.
Catherine's eyes widened."Hey!" the janitor called after her.
"You being chased?"
She didn't answer. She ran into the alleyways, hiding behind dumpsters and fences. The car's headlights swept past.Breathless, she crouched in the shadows, hearing Ethan yell out the window.
"Cate! Get in the damn car! Don't make this worse for yourself!"
She watched as he threw his phone against the dashboard, fury etched across his face.And just as he sped off in the wrong direction, Catherine turned the other way, vanishing deeper into Miami's underbelly.
**Meanwhile, back at the Sapphire Vault, Richard Blake stared at the shattered champagne glass on the floor.
"Find her," he ordered his security chief.
"And bring her back. I don't care what it takes."
Camille sipped her champagne, watching the chaos unfold like theater.
"Well," she mused, "there goes the perfect Blake legacy."She smiled.
And somewhere in the chaos of the night, a door slammed behind Catherine as she burst into a neon-lit Cuban diner, barefoot and gasping. Heads turned. A mechanic in grease-stained overalls looked up from his late dinner.He blinked. She blinked.
"You lost, Cinderella?" he asked with a smirk.
Catherine's chest heaved. "I think I just ruined my life."
He stood, wiping his hands with a rag.
"Good. Means you're about to start living."
And just then—Glass shattered behind her.Masked men in black stormed in with weapons drawn.
"Down!" the mechanic shouted, pulling her to the floor.