Trash Treated As Treasure

Heart pounding erratically in her chest, Cleo spun on her heel and bolted. She navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Four Seasons, her worn sneakers soundless against the plush carpets. She kept her head down, narrowly escaping Vaughn’s predatory line of sight. Once she was certain she had lost him in the opulent maze of the hotel, she leaned heavily against a cool marble wall. She closed her eyes and let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Her lungs burned, and her hands were still shaking from the sheer terror of that brief, suffocating encounter. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself, smoothing down the front of her simple clothes, and finally located the grand entrance to the designated private banquet room.

Before her hand could even touch the ornate brass handle, an inhospitable, grating voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"What is up with the shabby look? You are just an extra in this world. Do you really think you are some kind of big shot?"

Cleo stiffened instantly. The familiar mockery grated on her nerves. She turned around slowly to find her estranged half-sister, Sloane Stanton, standing near the doorway with a look of supreme arrogance.

Sloane looked Cleo up and down, her perfectly painted lips curling with intense disgust. She crossed her arms, showcasing a glittering diamond watch. "Long time no see, Cleo. Why are you dressed like a beggar in such a high-class establishment?"

"I would rather we never see each other again." Cleo gave a lazy, tight smile, refusing to back down.

"I am afraid that will be a problem. Corbin invited me over for dinner, so there will be many more chances for us to meet in the future." Sloane raised her brows haughtily.

Cleo’s exhausted brain scrambled to process the jarring information. Her face darkened as a deep sense of foreboding settled in her stomach. Since when did Corbin and Sloane even know each other? Why didn't she know anything about this connection?

Before she could voice the demand, Beatrice and Corbin strolled into the hallway. To Cleo's sheer horror, her boyfriend of seven years and his mother rushed forward the second they spotted the wealthy Stanton heiress. Beatrice’s face lit up with a broad, sickeningly bright smile. Cleo had never seen Mrs. Vance beam so radiantly, a privilege clearly reserved only for the rich. They fawned over the heiress as if she were royalty.

Sloane’s sardonic smirk melted into a honey-laced mask of pure innocence. She looked at Corbin with wide, doe-like eyes. "Corbin, I was talking to my sister. She does not seem too happy that I am here. Should I go back? I would not want to impose on your celebration."

Corbin fell right under the heiress's wealthy spell. His gaze turned impossibly gentle, and his tone was sickeningly sweet. "Of course you are not imposing. The entire purpose of today’s celebration is to formally introduce you to the family. They are definitely going to love you."

Furious and deeply betrayed, Cleo stepped directly into Corbin’s path, blocking his view of Sloane. "Corbin, do you know what you are doing? Since when were you this close to her, and why didn't I know anything about it?"

Corbin met her legitimate anger with cold, unflinching indifference. He looked at her as if she were a nuisance. "Your sister is my sister now. Is there a problem? All my relatives are here today, so do not kick up a fuss with me, Cleo."

"You have got to be kidding me! Corbin Vance!" Cleo spat the words out, her voice rising in disbelief.

"Let us eat first. My body isn't recovered yet. If I fall ill again because of you, you will have to bear the severe consequences." He glared at her, weaponizing his recent illness without a shred of guilt, cruelly threatening her to stay silent.

Corbin pushed the heavy wooden door open and gestured for his mother and his new esteemed guest to enter.

As they moved forward, Sloane purposefully bumped her shoulder hard against Cleo's, leaning in to whisper maliciously into her ear. "Sorry for stealing your belongings again. Honestly, Cleo, what a pathetic life you have, always having to live in my shadow. I am not interested in your boyfriend, by the way. I just thought I would have a little fun. You found trash and treated it as treasure, so you have only yourself to blame for being so pathetic. Did you see how your boyfriend was fawning over me? Even I feel embarrassed for you."

Cleo stood frozen by the door, her entire body trembling as she glared daggers at Sloane's retreating back.

Inside the opulent private room, the isolation was immediate and suffocating. The massive crystal chandelier cast a bright light over the large circular table. The Vance family flocked around Sloane like eager vultures, ignoring Cleo's existence. They nudged the heiress toward the center seat of honor. Sloane played her part perfectly, greeting the relatives with fake meekness and polite, charming smiles.

Cleo remained rooted in the doorway. Not a single person invited her to sit down. She watched the people she had sacrificed everything for treat her enemy like a goddess.

From across the large table, Corbin shot Cleo a vexed, disgusted look. He raised his voice, ensuring everyone in the room heard his public mockery. "She is just a bumpkin who has hardly seen the world. This is her first time eating in such a high-class hotel, so I bet she is too embarrassed and uncultured to come in."

Swallowing the heavy, suffocating lump of an impending emotional meltdown, Cleo forced her trembling legs to move. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her break down. Enduring the sheer humiliation, she walked over and sat directly in the vacant chair beside the gloating Sloane.

The ensuing dinner degraded into a horrific session of psychological torture. The relatives continuously showered Sloane with exaggerated praise, passing her the finest dishes and laughing at her every word. Meanwhile, Cleo was treated like an invisible, worthless outsider, left to stare at her empty porcelain plate.

Beatrice kept placing prime cuts of imported meat on Sloane's plate. "Sloane is such a beautiful girl. Truly a blessing to have you join us tonight."

The tipping point arrived when Corbin’s younger sister leaned over, staring greedily at Sloane’s wrist. "Sloane, your bracelet is so pretty. It probably cost a fortune, right?"

Sloane generously unclasped the jewelry and draped it over the younger girl's wrist. The sister shrieked in delight, but her gratitude immediately morphed into a weapon. She pivoted, her eyes locking onto Cleo’s wrist with obvious contempt.

"Cleo, that hair tie on your wrist is about to snap. You really should buy yourself a new one."

Pushed to her emotional limit, Cleo smiled bitterly. She rested her chin on her hand, her voice trembling slightly but loud enough to command the dead center of the room. "And where would I get extra money? I spent every last penny I had on your brother’s expensive medical treatments."

The noisy room fell dead silent at the harsh reminder of reality. The clinking of silver cutlery stopped. Corbin’s face turned several shades darker, contorting with unspoken rage.

Beatrice, however, was incredibly quick to attack. The vicious mother slammed her chopsticks down on the table and sneered. "What? Do you feel victimized? With your terrible background, do you honestly think anyone else besides our merciful family would ever want a girl like you? My son actually pities you. It is not like we forced you to pay for the hospital bills. You did it willingly."

The horrific realization physically stabbed Cleo in the chest. They were systematically discarding her now that she had exhausted her financial usefulness. All her sleepless nights, all the extra shifts, all the debts she took on for his sake meant nothing to them. She blinked back the stinging tears threatening to fall, forcing her spine straight.

"Yes, it is because I have a terrible background and no family to rely on that I am being bullied by all of you. But as if that is not bad enough, you are lacking in basic morality. You are viciously biting the hand that fed you and saved Corbin's life." Cleo fired back, her words ringing clear across the table.

Her raw, truthful words trampled all over Corbin’s fragile pride.

"Cleo, do you have to ruin everyone's appetites? Your pettiness is off-putting." Corbin sneered loudly, slamming his hand on the table.

The rest of the vile family ruthlessly piled on their insults to protect their bruised pride and defend their meal ticket.

"Yeah. It is not like she personally performed the surgery. How shameless of her to make all those claims."

"Corbin already treats her so well, but she is still as unappreciative as ever."

"Some people are just worlds apart. Just look at Sloane. How did the two sisters end up being so different from each other?"

The relentless barrage of criticism echoed in Cleo's ears. She was pushed to the brink. Her chest heaved as she stared at the man she once loved. Unable to endure another second of this mockery, she stood up abruptly and raised her trembling hand, fully intending to wipe the smug look off Corbin's face with a resounding slap.

Corbin reacted with lightning speed. He grabbed a full glass of wine from the table and hurled the contents forward.

Dark red liquid splashed directly all over Cleo's face. The expensive vintage soaked her hair, dripping down her pale cheeks and staining her worn clothes with deep, blood-like patches. The sheer force of the splash forced her to close her eyes, the cold liquid shocking her system.

"Wake up and stop making a scene." He barked the command, looking at her as if she were a piece of trash on the street.

Cold liquid dripped from Cleo's chin. The room went silent again, save for the faint sound of wine dripping onto the plush carpet. Sloane leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, basking in the glow of her effortless, total victory over her sister. She didn't even have to lift a finger to destroy Cleo's life.

Just then, the heavy double doors of the private room swung open.

A young, impeccably dressed waiter entered the tense room carrying a gleaming silver tray. Resting in the center was a single bottle of outrageously expensive, exclusive vintage wine. The elegant label caught the ambient light from the chandelier, practically radiating wealth.

Corbin nervously gulped. His face paled as he recognized the luxury brand. He immediately rushed from his seat to intercept the staff member, wanting to save face but terrified of the bill.

"Wait, we did not order this wine. You have the wrong room." Corbin stated bluntly, knowing he could not afford a single sip of that bottle.

The waiter simply smiled courteously. His professional gaze swept right past Corbin and the rest of the Vance family, locking onto the drenched girl standing near the table.

"Good evening, sir. This wine is a gift from Mr. Lockwood to Ms. Cleo."

The name dropped like a bomb in the silent room.

Vaughn Lockwood?

Cleo froze in sheer, unadulterated shock. The red wine was still dripping down her neck, but the coldness of the liquid was nothing compared to the icy jolt that struck her heart. She stared at the waiter, unable to comprehend what was happening. Her mind raced back to the terrifying encounter in the lobby minutes ago.

The waiter carefully bypassed the stunned Corbin and placed the vintage bottle gently on the table right in front of Cleo. He offered a polite bow and added smoothly in the quiet room.

"The billionaire Mr. Lockwood has already generously footed the bill for the entire table. He wishes Ms. Cleo a pleasant meal."