The afternoon sun slipped through the sheer curtains, painting soft gold over the sheets. Celine stirred, her head pounding with every heartbeat. The world swayed when she tried to sit up. Her mouth was dry, her temples throbbed, and her stomach twisted.
She had never been this hungover in her life.
"Finally, you're awake!"
The voice startled her. Celine blinked, squinting toward the balcony. Sadie sat there, legs crossed on a chair, her phone in hand, looking equal parts relieved and exasperated.
"Sadie…?" Celine croaked.
Sadie stood immediately, brushing invisible lint off her dress. "Letty! She's up. Tell the kitchen to prepare something light — toast, fruit, tea — and bring it up."
She moved to sit beside Celine on the edge of the bed, concern softening her features. "You scared the hell out of us. We didn't know where you were last night."
Celine frowned, trying to piece her memories together. Flashes came in fragments — the club's dim lighting, the clink of glass, her own voice trembling as she cried… and then nothing.
"The Black Tie Society," she murmured, rubbing her temples. "I went there. After that… it's all a blur."
Sadie sighed. "You passed out halfway home. Letty said you were sick the entire ride. We almost called your doctor."
Celine groaned softly, covering her face with her hands. "Oh God. I'm so embarrassed."
A knock on the door interrupted her misery. Letty entered, balancing a tray of toast, sliced apples, and steaming tea.
"Miss, you should eat something," Letty said kindly, setting the tray on the nightstand.
"Thank you, Letty. And I'm so sorry for last night," Celine said softly, cheeks warm with shame. "It was completely inappropriate of me."
Letty shook her head. "It's alright, Miss Celine. It's my job to look after you." She smiled gently. "I've already sent word to your mother that you're awake."
She turned to leave, but Celine called out, "Wait—how did you even find me? I only had my phone, and I remember putting it on silent."
Letty paused, remembering. "A kind gentleman found you, Miss. He stayed until we arrived and answered your phone when I called. He said you were safe."
Celine blinked. "A gentleman?"
"Yes. He gave me his card, in case you wanted to thank him." Letty handed her a sleek black business card.
Celine took it, her curiosity piqued. The embossed silver letters gleamed under the light.
"Cubix… Nathan Park," she read aloud.
Sadie's lips curled into a teasing smile. "Well, well. A knight in shining armor. At least some men in this city still have decency. You should call him — maybe invite him for coffee. Thank him properly."
Before Celine could respond, the door opened again.
Lauren Rosenfield entered, elegant as always despite the dark circles beneath her eyes. Her composure was firm, but her worry was visible.
"Oh, sweetie," she breathed, rushing to her daughter's side. "Thank God you're alright. Are you feeling any better?" She hugged Celine tightly, brushing her hair from her face.
Sadie and Letty exchanged glances, then quietly excused themselves, leaving mother and daughter alone.
Lauren sat on the edge of the bed, her tone shifting from gentle to stern. "What happened yesterday was preposterous!" she said, pacing. "Your father and Carl were worried sick. They stayed up all night before heading out for meetings this morning."
Celine lowered her eyes, guilt heavy in her chest.
Lauren's love was fierce but often edged with cold precision — what others called tough love.
She sighed, folding her arms. "The tabloids and social media are having a field day with this. I suggest you don't look. They're tearing you apart, darling. We need to fix this before it gets worse."
Her voice softened slightly, but her disappointment lingered. "How could you not see it coming, Celine? Were there no signs that he would pull something like this?"
Celine's shoulders tensed. "Mom, please. Don't make this harder than it already is." Her voice cracked. "You told me to be patient — to endure — and that's exactly what I did."
Lauren froze, taken aback. It was the first time her daughter had ever spoken to her like that.
Then, slowly, she composed herself and sat back down beside her. "You're right," she admitted quietly. "I'm sorry, honey. I just… we have to protect you. Protect our name."
She reached for Celine's shoulders, squeezing gently. "You have to understand — the way you handled yourself yesterday wasn't ideal. You let them corner you, and now they're using it against us. We can't let that happen again."
Celine's throat tightened. "Mom, what do you want me to do? I'm hurt. I feel… empty. He humiliated me in front of everyone."
Lauren sighed and cupped her face tenderly. "I know, sweetheart. But you're a Rosenfield. You don't let heartbreak break you. You rise. You make him regret ever underestimating you."
Celine turned her head away, her voice trembling. "I don't want him back, Mom. Not after what he did."
Lauren's eyes softened, though her mind was already calculating the next step. "I opposed Dinah's idea of inviting the press, but you insisted. What's done is done. Now we must take control of the story."
Celine looked up, confused. "Control it? How?"
"Be civil," Lauren said smoothly. "Be the bigger person. Show grace under pressure. If everyone's watching, let them see strength — not a broken girl, but a woman who carries herself with dignity."
"I don't know, Mom," Celine murmured. "Dean said he doesn't want anything to do with us."
Lauren smiled faintly, brushing her daughter's hair back. "Then show him what he's missing. Let him see what he threw away. Extend an olive branch if you must — not to win him back, but to remind the world who you are."
Her tone softened, almost maternal again. "You're stronger than you think, Celine. You'll learn what it truly means to be the lady of this family. Ignore the noise. Focus on rebuilding — gracefully, strategically."
Celine stared down at her tea, her reflection wavering in the surface. She understood her mother's intentions — beneath the poise and pressure was love, her mother's own way of coping.
"What should I do first?" she finally asked.
Lauren smiled, proud. "Rest. Then, when you're ready, have lunch with your father and Carl. We'll talk about how to move forward. There's always a way to turn a loss into an opportunity."
She stood, smoothing her dress. "And drink your tea. It will help with the headache."
Celine nodded faintly.
When her mother left, the room fell silent again.
She sank back into the pillows, the sunlight still spilling softly over her face. Her head ached, her body heavy — but her mind wouldn't stop racing.
Somewhere between the embarrassment, the hurt, and the exhaustion, a new thought began to form — quiet but persistent.
If she had to face the world again… she would do it differently this time.