Social Sabotage
The ballroom air tasted of expensive lilies and impending ruin. Mara stood near the edge of the dais, her fingers tracing the cold, marble edge of the donor wall. She had spent years perfecting the art of being invisible in plain sight, but tonight, the architecture of her life was being dismantled in real-time.
The main screen, previously displaying the gala’s gold-leafed branding, flickered. The image dissolved into a stark, clinical white. A collective intake of breath rippled through the five hundred guests, a sound like a sudden, sharp intake of oxygen before a fire.
BOARD COORDINATOR HIDES PHILANTHROPY HEIR — CREST CHILD LINKED TO YEARS-OLD BREAKUP.
Below the headline, a grainy, invasive photo of a child’s hand on a sleeve—Iris—appear
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