**Chapter 34** In the grand and opulent Foster mansion, Mrs. Cooper hurriedly guided Avery to the plush couch as they stepped into the living room, the air thick with anticipation. “Madam, Master Elliot has prepared a special gift for you,” Mrs. Cooper declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement. As she delicately opened the pristine white gift box resting on the table, the interior was soon revealed: an exquisite white gown that shimmered softly under the ambient lighting. “Are you certain he chose this for me?” Avery’s voice trembled with disbelief as she beheld the magnificent creation. “Absolutely, Madam. There is a dinner event tonight that you must attend with Master Elliot. And look! There are shoes too!” Mrs. Cooper continued, lifting another box with reverence to unveil a stunning pair of stilettos. Avery picked up one of the heels, turning it in her hand with a mixture of awe and trepidation. “Why does he want me there? I hardly know his friends. Isn’t he concerned I might embarrass him?” “I’m sure he has his reasons, Madam,” Mrs. Cooper reassured her gently. “It’s time to release the past, and embrace your future alongside Master Elliot.” Avery raised her gaze, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in her eyes. “Do you truly believe he has moved on? We still don’t understand what he intends for this evening!” “Madam… was the baby you carried before truly Mr. Cole’s? I find it hard to believe you are that kind of woman,” Mrs. Cooper's voice was laced with concern. Avery lowered her head, her heart heavy with memories. “That’s all behind us now. Let’s not revisit it,” she replied, her tone firm yet wistful. With resolve, she lifted the gown from the box, the fabric whispering promises of new beginnings. “I’m going to try this on.” “Very well,” Mrs. Cooper responded, her voice supportive. Later that evening, Avery arrived at Florrance Villa, her presence transforming the banquet hall as she stepped forth in the resplendent ivory gown. Beneath the radiant glow of the grand crystal chandelier, she resembled an ethereal fairy who had wandered in from another realm. Eyes turned toward her, curiosity piqued and admiration palpable. “Who is she? She’s absolutely stunning! Why haven’t I seen her before?” “I believe she’s the eldest daughter of the Tate family — Avery Tate. You know, the one from the nearly bankrupt Tate Industries?” “Oh! I remember hearing whispers about that. What is she doing here? Who invited her? That dress looks like the latest haute couture from Shanel! Is she really that wealthy?” Whispers filled the air as the crowd fervently speculated, their gazes fixed on Avery. She scanned the room but found no sign of Elliot. The high heels were starting to pinch her feet, prompting her to seek solace in an unoccupied chair. As soon as she settled in, a couple of women approached her, faux smiles plastered on their faces. “Miss Tate, is the gown you’re wearing Shanel haute couture?” one of them inquired, a hint of condescension lacing her tone. Avery glanced down, momentarily questioning the value of the lovely fabric. Could it truly be haute couture? “Is there a problem?” she retorted, a touch of defiance in her voice. “I doubt you can afford haute couture now, considering your family's impending bankruptcy,” another woman chimed in, smirking. “Wearing a knockoff to an event like this would be rather humiliating, don’t you think?” “If that’s the case, then I’d be the one feeling humiliated. But frankly, what does that have to do with you?” Avery shot back, her words imbued with an unexpected bravado. The two women erupted in laughter, incredulity painting their expressions. It was their first encounter with someone so audaciously bold. “Do you even have an invitation, Miss Tate? I reckon you don’t. How on earth did you manage to get in here?” one of them pressed, her curiosity dripping with malice. Avery locked her steely gaze on the women, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. “I came in on my own merit,” she replied, her tone unapologetic. Her words struck like a thunderclap, silencing the crowd and redirecting their scrutiny toward her feet, adorned in what appeared to be rare, limited edition Armeses stilettos. “Did you find yourself a sugar daddy, Miss Tate?” one woman questioned, skepticism in her eyes as she scrutinized her attire. The validity of luxury was not lost on those who belonged to the elite. Undoubtedly, the gown and heels enveloping Avery were authentic treasures, collectively valued at over three hundred thousand dollars. “Indeed! After all, how else could someone from my lowly background possibly mingle amongst a gathering of the wealthy like yourselves?” Avery retorted, mocking her own situation with a hint of defiance. The crowd's perception of her began to shift, intrigued whispers circulating as they eyed her with a newfound respect. “Who is this sugar daddy you speak of? If he’s so generous, he must be a powerful figure!” In the midst of the glamorous soirée, the tables had turned, and Avery stood poised at the center, more than ready to embrace the night ahead, determined to rewrite her own story.