I stood there, my cheek burning, but my resolve hardened. I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not ever.
Instead, I made a decision. I would not let this humiliation go unanswered. As the laughter faded, my mind was already crafting a plan that would ensure they never underestimated me again.
I turned, leaving the ballroom, each step measured and deliberate. I didn’t need their approval or validation. I had something more potent: the determination to protect what was mine and teach them a lesson they’d never forget.
A few whispers followed as I exited, but I ignored them. The die was cast, and I was ready to see it through. This wasn’t just about a penthouse. This was about respect, which I intended to claim with a calculated vengeance that would leave them speechless.
The glimmer of a strategy formed in my mind, one that would ensure not only that my rights and achievements were recognized but also that the notion of taking what was mine would be a mistake too costly for any of them to repeat.