Chapter 83: Charity Gala

By the evening, both friends were ready to leave for the charity gala.

"After all my effort, you still chose this business look," Mia sighed, looking at her friend clad in a sleek, tailored blazer in a rich, deep emerald green with a subtle sheen, perfectly fitted to her frame.

"I’m fine like this," Natalie said, giving herself a quick glance in the mirror. "Besides, you’re the one who should be showing off. Your possible marriage prospect is going to be there."

"Ugh, screw him," Mia grumbled. "Help me adjust this dress."

Mia looked stunning in a delicate peach off-shoulder, knee-length dress that made her appear like an ethereal beauty. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, with a few strands left free to frame her face.

"I’ve got my own living doll to style," Natalie teased, as she admired how beautiful Mia looked. "That bastard is going to regret ever letting you go."

"Better for me," Mia chuckled.

Once Mia was ready, she gave Natalie a once-over and hummed in appreciation. "Only a real man could appreciate the kind of beauty you have. You don’t need to show off your legs or flash an enticing diving worth cleavage. You’re effortlessly stunning, even fully covered." She sighed dramatically. "If only I were a man..."

Natalie chuckled, brushing off the comment. "Trust me, you’ve got it better. More men will be lining up for a dive into cleavage instead."

"But I wonder who the lucky guy will be to finally see that sexy body of yours," Mia teased. "Ivan lost his golden chance, and the other jerk is still MIA, so that leaves us with Mr. Harper."

"You talk too much," Natalie frowned, trying to change the subject. "Aren’t we going to be late? The venue’s pretty far from here."

The two friends hurried out of the house and made their way to the venue in Mia’s car. When they arrived at the luxury hotel, the scene was bustling with activity. Expensive cars lined the entrance as the wealthiest people in the city arrived, flaunting their status. Media swarmed outside, eager to capture every moment, flashing cameras at the VIP guests.

Mia and Natalie stepped out of the car, and Mia handed her keys to the valet.

"God, I hate this," Natalie murmured, eyeing the flashing lights and guests posing for the cameras. "Isn’t there some other way into the hotel?"

"I hate it too," Mia grumbled, but added with a resigned sigh, "But my grandma needs to see my picture among the social elite, so we’ve got to deal with it." She grabbed Natalie’s hand and led her forward. "We’ll slip through quickly. Anyway, it looks like most of the guests have already arrived, so no one will be paying attention to us—just a couple of ’poor’ latecomers."

As Mia predicted, they managed to weave through the flashing cameras without too much trouble.

"Isn’t that Mia Wilson, the daughter of one of the four big families in the city?" a voice murmured from the crowd.

"And with her..."

"That’s Natalie Ford."

"What’s Mia Wilson doing with someone like Natalie Ford?"

"I heard they’re close friends."

"How does the Wilson family let her associate with someone like Ignoring the hushed whispers, the two friends entered the grand event hall, which was decked out with extravagant decorations and an overwhelming display of wealth and glamour.

"Let’s find a spot in one of the corners where no one will bother us, and we can just enjoy the food," Mia suggested, glancing around the room.

"I’m starving," Natalie agreed, and the two made their way to a secluded table in the farthest corner, away from the crowd.

Meanwhile, a pair of sharp eyes had already noticed their arrival, seemingly waiting for this moment.

"Briena, there they are," Briena’s friend Lily remarked.

Briena scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "Bad luck for them—especially for Natalie."

"Are you sure this will work? Last time she turned the tables on us," Lily asked, still hadn’t gotten over the pool incident.

A wicked glint flashed in Briena’s eyes. "Don’t worry. This time, the mastermind is someone else. We just need to play our parts."

Lily chuckled. "Your mother always knows how to stir things up."

Another friend chimed in, "Look at what she’s wearing. Who comes to a gala in business formals?"

"Seriously," Lily added. "And Briena, as always, looks like a star."

"Let’s go have some fun," one of them suggested, and the group made their way toward Natalie and Mia’s quiet corner.

Unaware of what’s happening around, Natalie and Mia were focused on satisfying their growling stomachs.

"For now, desserts will do," Natalie replied, watching her friend leave.

"Natalie?" Briana’s friend called her while Briena stood next to her.

Natalie sighed, clearly uninterested. "No, my name is Queen Victoria."

Lily sneered, her tone sharp. "Then why is Queen Victoria dressed like this? Have you lost your sense of fashion already?"

Natalie’s gaze shifted to Lily’s outfit, and with a calm, cutting tone, she replied, "I don’t have the taste for wearing old and torn rugs under the guise of fashion."

Lily clenched her fists, her face reddening. "You... you dare insult the latest design of a renowned designer like this? I’m sure he won’t be pleased to hear it."

"He wouldn’t be pleased either to see someone parading around in a cheap imitation of his precious creation," Natalie shot back effortlessly.

Lily froze, her shock evident.

Briena and the others exchanged uneasy glances, but Lily quickly composed herself.

"How dare you call it an imitation—"

"Seems like falling into the pool last time wasn’t enough to clear your rotten brain," Natalie interrupted, picking up a glass of water. "Care for another rinse?"

"You—!"

"Lily, leave it," Briena cut in, her voice calm but firm. "Let her enjoy herself for a little longer."

Reluctantly, and not wanting her dress exposed as a knockoff, Lily nodded and followed Briena and the others away, her pride barely intact.

Natalie sighed, relieved they had left, and glanced around for Mia."Where is this girl, leaving me here all alone."

Deciding to find Mia, Natalie stood up and took a few steps before suddenly crossing paths with someone unexpected.

Ivan Brown.