The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 97

The deafening buzz of the banquet hall washed over the room like a warm ocean wave, drowning out everything else.

On Annelise's fine bone plate sat a small cut of premium Australian Wagyu beef, delicately accented with black truffle sauce, alongside a portion of classic lobster thermidor.

The spread was obscenely lavish; a single plate on this table easily cost more than an average corporate worker's six-month salary.

But the food had been sitting there untouched since it was served, now completely stone cold.

Annelise hadn't so much as picked up her silverware.

Seated at her table were a few distant Lehman relatives and a handful of wealthy wives she barely recognized.

A woman draped in a sapphire-blue dress, flashing a diamond ring the size of a pigeon's egg, leaned forward. Using a voice she clearly thought was a whisper—but was loud enough for half the table to hear—she feigned deep concern.

"Annelise, dear, I heard you were terribly unwell recently. How are you holding up?"

Annelise lifted her eyes, her face a mask of perfectly polite detachment.

She picked up her champagne flute, filled only with mocktail orange juice, and raised it in a slight, elegant toast.

"I'm doing much better now. Thank you for your concern."

Another woman, slightly younger, hesitated for a split second before her craving for gossip completely took over. Covering her mouth with a napkin, she leaned in.

"So... how are things between you and Hackett?"

The question was incredibly brazen, a blatant attempt to fish for details about her impending exile from the family.

The rest of the women at the table immediately perked up, their chewing visibly slowing down.

Annelise's pleasant smile didn't waver for a fraction of a second.

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her orange juice before answering in an airy, dismissive tone.

"Things are perfectly fine."

Her response was sharp, airtight, and left absolutely zero room for follow-up questions.

The gossiping woman choked on the "perfectly fine," totally at a loss for words. She offered a strained, embarrassed chuckle and quickly turned back to her plate.

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