I watched Mason walk out of the formal dining room, and I listened to the heavy front doors close behind him while the quiet atmosphere returned to the massive space. Eliza did not speak to me again after she delivered her threat regarding the afternoon tea party, and she simply stood up from her chair to instruct the household staff about the specific pastries she required for her upcoming social event. I realized I was entirely alone to face her hostile friends, so I pushed my heavy wooden chair away from the table and walked out of the room to mentally prepare myself for the difficult afternoon.
I climbed the wide marble staircase and navigated through the long corridors until I reached my assigned bedroom in the east wing of the estate. I closed the heavy mahogany door behind me, and I immediately began to pace back and forth across the thick carpet because my nervous energy required physical movement. I walked into the attached bathroom and picked up a clear glass from the shelf above the sink. I turned the metal faucet to fill the glass with cold tap water, and I drank the entire beverage quickly to soothe my dry throat. The morning events had drained my emotional energy completely, and I still had several hours before Eliza's wealthy friends arrived at the house. I walked back into the main bedroom and sat down on the edge of the large mattress, resting my face in my hands while I tried to formulate a practical strategy for surviving the social ambush.
A soft knock sounded against the wooden door, and I lifted my head in surprise because I did not expect any visitors in my private quarters. I stood up and walked across the room to turn the brass handle, and I found Dahlia standing in the hallway holding a small, leather-bound book in her hands. She looked highly nervous, and she glanced over her shoulder to ensure her mother was not walking down the corridor before she looked back at my face.
"I know my mother was incredibly cruel to you during breakfast, and I wanted to check on you before her friends arrive this afternoon," Dahlia said in a quiet voice while she shifted her weight uncomfortably. "May I please come inside your room for a few minutes?"
"You are always welcome to visit me, Dahlia, and I appreciate your concern for my well-being," I replied sincerely, and I stepped aside so she could enter the spacious bedroom. I closed the door securely, and we both walked over to the small seating area near the large glass windows. I sat on a velvet chair, and she sat on the matching sofa across from me while she placed her book onto the small wooden table between us.
"You handled her insults very well this morning, although you must understand that the women attending the tea party today will be significantly more aggressive than my mother was at the dining table," Dahlia warned me with genuine worry in her brown eyes. "Those women have known Mason since he was a young child, and they all desperately wanted him to marry one of their own wealthy daughters to combine their corporate fortunes. They will view you as an unwelcome intruder who stole a highly valuable financial asset from their social circle, and they will ask you incredibly invasive questions to find your emotional vulnerabilities."
"I have dealt with highly aggressive and entitled people for several years at the diner, so I understand how to manage difficult personalities without losing my temper," I assured her while I smoothed the fabric of my denim jeans over my knees. "I will simply treat them exactly like I treat demanding customers who complain about their food, and I will not allow their passive-aggressive comments to break my confidence."
"Their expectations are completely toxic, and they judge everyone based entirely on their designer clothing, their family lineage, and their financial portfolios," Dahlia explained while she absentmindedly traced the edge of her leather book with her finger. "I actually hate attending these social functions because they always criticize my appearance and tell me that I need to behave like a proper society lady instead of focusing on my university studies. I try to stay invisible when they visit the house, but my mother insists that I attend the tea party today to observe how a true high-society gathering operates."
"You do not need to change your personality or abandon your studies to please a group of judgmental women, because your intelligence and your kindness are much more important than their superficial rules," I told her firmly because I wanted her to realize her own inherent value outside of her mother's strict control. "We will attend this event together, and we will support each other when they start asking their terrible questions."
Dahlia smiled genuinely for the first time since I met her, and we spent the next two hours discussing her college classes and my plans for my future bakery. The conversation flowed easily between us, and I felt incredibly relieved to find a genuine ally inside the hostile Kingsley mansion.
When the ornate clock on the wall indicated that the time was exactly five minutes before three o'clock, we stood up from the furniture and walked out of the bedroom together. We navigated the marble hallways until we reached the sunroom located at the back of the estate. The room was entirely constructed of thick glass panels that allowed natural sunlight to illuminate the expensive indoor plants and the luxurious velvet seating arrangements. A long silver table was covered with delicate porcelain teacups, crystal pitchers of cold water, and multiple silver trays displaying complicated pastries and tiny sandwiches.
Eliza was already standing near the entrance, and she wore a new designer dress made of pale pink silk. She looked at my simple denim jeans and my plain cotton shirt with absolute disdain, but she did not have enough time to deliver another insult before the household staff opened the heavy glass doors to admit the arriving guests.
Six older women walked into the sunroom, and they all wore incredibly expensive clothing accompanied by massive diamond necklaces and heavy gold bracelets. They greeted Eliza with polite kisses on the cheek and superficial compliments regarding the beautiful floral arrangements, but their sharp eyes immediately locked onto my physical appearance. They stared at me with undisguised judgment, and they whispered quietly to each other behind their manicured hands while they took their seats on the velvet couches.
"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Mason's new wife, Freya," Eliza announced loudly while she gestured toward me with a completely fake smile. "Mason married her very suddenly yesterday, and she currently works as a waitress at a public diner in the city, so she is entirely unfamiliar with our specific social customs."
Eliza deliberately emphasized my working-class job to invite their immediate ridicule, and the women eagerly accepted the opportunity to begin their interrogation. A woman wearing a dark blue suit leaned forward and looked at me with a condescending expression.
"It is quite surprising to meet you, Freya, because Mason has always possessed highly refined tastes regarding his romantic partners," the woman stated smoothly. "Eliza mentioned that your parents are no longer living, which is a terrible tragedy. Did they leave you a substantial inheritance or a successful corporate enterprise to manage before you decided to pursue a career in the food service industry?"
"My parents owned a small logistics company that unfortunately went bankrupt shortly before they passed away in an automobile accident, so they did not leave me any financial inheritance," I answered honestly and clearly, maintaining direct eye contact with the woman because I refused to show any shame regarding my family history. "I chose to work at the diner because honest labor pays my monthly bills, and I find great satisfaction in earning my own money without relying on corporate trust funds."
Another woman wearing heavy pearl earrings scoffed quietly and placed her teacup onto a glass table. "Earning a small weekly paycheck might build character, but it certainly does not prepare a young woman to manage a massive billionaire household or host important international diplomats. Mason requires a sophisticated partner who understands global etiquette, and you simply cannot learn those crucial skills while serving cheap coffee to common laborers."
"I actually serve coffee to many different types of people, including highly successful business owners who appreciate a warm meal and a respectful conversation," I deflected her insult politely while I utilized my years of customer service experience to keep my voice perfectly even and pleasant. "Furthermore, the basic principles of hosting a gathering remain exactly the same regardless of the guest's financial status. You simply provide good food, a comfortable environment, and polite conversation, which are all skills I practice every single day at my job."
The women exchanged frustrated glances because my practical, blunt responses completely dismantled their passive-aggressive attacks. I did not apologize for my background, and I did not allow them to make me feel inferior. Dahlia sat quietly beside me on the sofa, and she offered me a supportive nod when the wealthy women struggled to formulate their next insulting question. Eliza recognized that her friends were failing to break my composure, and her pink lips pressed into a tight, angry line while she gripped her porcelain saucer tightly.
I successfully survived the initial round of their intense interrogation, and I felt a strong surge of confidence building inside my chest because I knew I could endure their superficial behavior for the duration of the contract. However, my brief moment of victory was interrupted when the heavy glass doors of the sunroom suddenly swung open again, and a new guest arrived completely uninvited.
A young woman walked confidently into the room, and she possessed an incredibly striking physical appearance. She had long, perfectly styled blonde hair, and she wore a stunning red designer dress that clung tightly to her slender figure. She carried a small leather handbag that likely cost more than my entire yearly salary, and she moved with the inherent arrogance of someone who had never experienced a single day of hardship in her entire life. This woman was Nadia, Mason's former fiancée, and I immediately recognized her from the brief descriptions Dahlia had provided during our previous conversations.
The older women in the room gasped in collective surprise, and Eliza quickly stood up from her chair to greet the new arrival. Nadia completely ignored the older women, and she walked directly across the room until she stopped just a few feet away from where I was sitting. She looked down at me, and her beautiful face twisted into an expression of pure, unadulterated hatred. She inspected my cheap clothing and my simple hairstyle with absolute disgust, and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest before she delivered her verbal attack.
"Eliza told me that Mason married a desperate waitress to secure his corporate position, but I never imagined you would look this incredibly pathetic in person," Nadia stated in a sharp, cruel voice that echoed loudly throughout the silent sunroom.
I refused to let her intimidate me in front of the hostile audience, so I stood up from my velvet chair to match her aggressive posture, and I looked directly into her cold eyes.
"He must have found my pathetic appearance incredibly appealing, because he chose to marry me instead of returning to the woman who betrayed him," I replied.