The receptionist took one look at Nathalie’s head-to-toe designer outfit and instantly straightened up, her smile turning warm and deferential. “Good evening, miss. Do you have a reservation with us?”
“Rose Suite. Room 666. Take me there,” Nathalie said, not bothering to soften her tone.
“Certainly, miss. Right this way, please.”
The server led Nathalie down the hall, even holding the door open for her as she entered the Rose Suite. Inside, the old matriarch was already seated, exuding an air of effortless elegance. Her maid hovered nearby, eyes cast down.
Nathalie walked straight in and set her gift down in front of Mrs. Sharp. “Mrs. Sharp, just a little something. I hope you’ll accept it.”
The matriarch glanced at the boxes—fancy, sure, but the kind people in their circles always gave each other. Nothing special, nothing personal.
Her dislike for Nathalie was obvious, though she kept her posture flawless and voice gentle. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
She raised her teacup and took a slow sip, waiting for Nathalie to speak first. But Nathalie just sat there, steady as a rock, returning her gaze.
Finally, Mrs. Sharp had to break the ice. “I wanted to see you alone today to talk about you and my son, Nathan.”
Nathalie nodded, offering no more than that.
Mrs. Sharp pressed on, her words carefully chosen. “You’re a smart girl, Nathalie. But you and Nathan aren’t suited for each other.”
She risked a sidelong glance at Nathalie, expecting her to ask, “Why not?”—expecting an opening to list every flaw.

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