She Was a Joke, Now the Queen

Before Eveline could take a third step, a figure stepped out from the crowd to block her path. It was Robert Schmitt, her father, his face a mask of thunderous rage. He was clutching a manila folder in his hand so tightly his knuckles were white.

He ignored Eveline completely, his attention fixed on Frederick. He forced a sycophantic smile, his voice slick with false bonhomie. "Frederick, my boy, just a little family spat. Don't you worry, I'll handle her."

Frederick's gaze remained locked on Eveline's retreating back, his jaw tight. He didn't even acknowledge Robert's presence.

Humiliated by the dismissal, Robert's face contorted with fury. He whirled on Eveline. "Eveline, stop this foolishness at once! Apologize to Ciara and Frederick right now!"

Eveline looked at him, her eyes cold. This was the man who had sold her like a piece of livestock to save his failing company. His authority meant less than nothing to her. She simply stared through him.

Her silence was more infuriating than any argument. With a roar of frustration, Robert slammed the folder onto a nearby marble-topped table. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the silent room.

"Since you're so eager to leave," he bellowed, his voice shaking with rage, "then sign this!"

He ripped the document from the folder. The title was printed in stark, bold letters: DEED OF RENUNCIATION. It was a legal contract severing all ties, demanding she relinquish any claim to the Schmitt family name and inheritance.

He thought it would break her. For years, all she had ever wanted was their approval, a sense of belonging in a family that had only ever treated her as an outsider.

Ciara, ever the actress, rushed to Eveline's side and grabbed her arm. "Sister, don't be impulsive. Dad's just angry. Please, just say you're sorry. We can still be a family."

Eveline met Ciara's tear-filled eyes, a cold smile playing on her lips. "A family? Ciara, have you forgotten? When Schmitt Industries was on the verge of filing for bankruptcy, who was it that went crawling to the Woodard family, begging them to let me marry Frederick in exchange for a bailout from the Tylers?"

She had thrown a grenade into the middle of the room. The carefully buried truth of their "alliance" was now exposed.

Robert's face turned a mottled shade of purple. The story of his near-failure was a source of deep shame, a secret he had tried to bury for years.

Ciara's expression froze, her mask of concern cracking. She never expected Eveline to bring up the past.

Eveline yanked her arm away from Ciara's grasp. She walked to the table, picked up the gold-plated fountain pen lying beside the document, and, without a moment of hesitation, signed her name at the bottom.

Eveline Woodard.

The signature was fluid and confident, the strokes clean and decisive.

Robert and Ciara stared, dumbfounded. Their threat had backfired spectacularly. They had handed her a weapon, and she had used it to free herself.

Eveline pushed the signed document back towards Robert. "As you wish. From this moment on, I have nothing to do with the Schmitt family."

She turned to leave again. This time, it was Frederick who stood in her way.

His eyes were a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, confusion, and something else he couldn't name, a flicker of unease. Her absolute resolve was something he had never seen before, and it unnerved him. It felt like the ground was shifting beneath his feet.

Eveline didn't pause. She simply walked around him, as if he were a piece of furniture, not even gracing him with a glance.

As she passed, she leaned in just enough for him to hear her, her voice a low, chilling promise.

"You'll be signing papers soon, too."

She walked toward the exit, pulling her phone from her small evening bag. She dialed a number from memory. It connected on the first ring.

"Sean, it's me," she said, her voice low and steady. "It can begin."

The man on the other end was Sean Woodard, her adoptive brother, the heir to the Woodard fortune.

The moment she had opened her eyes in this ballroom, her plan had already been set in motion.

She ended the call and took a deep breath of the fresh night air as she stepped out of the suffocating hall. The show was only just beginning.