Twenty years after high school, I walked into our alumni reunion wearing a simple dress and carrying an ordinary purse.

The ballroom had completely transformed.

Ten minutes ago, Table 1 was the center of the universe, and Table 12 was a graveyard for "unsuccessful" alumni. Now, Table 1 was entirely deserted.

Nearly half the alumni in the room had migrated toward the back alcove, standing in a wide, respectful circle around my small table, desperate for a chance to speak to me.

"Emily! Remember me? David from AP Chemistry?"

"Ms. Carter, I run a commercial architecture firm downtown—we'd love to submit a proposal for Carter Holdings' new warehouse expansion!"

"Emily, you look fantastic! Simple elegance is always the best!"

The brown-nosing was fast, intense, and shameless.

Jason was standing closest to my table, fidgeting nervously with his gold watch, waiting for a break in the crowd. When the other alumni fell silent for a second, he stepped in, forcing a warm, obsequious smile.

"Emily... Ms. Carter," Jason began, his voice dripping with forced warmth. "Look, I want to formally apologize for the seating mix-up tonight. Truly. As class president, I should have paid closer attention. But hey—it's amazing to see what you've built! You know, my logistics company, Miller Express, actually submitted a bid last week for Carter Holdings' regional freight contract!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Miller Express?"

"Yes!" Jason beamed, thinking he had found his opening. "A five-year distribution deal! It’s currently sitting on the desk of your VP of Procurement. I'd love to buy you dinner this week to discuss how Miller Express can add value to Carter Holdings!"

I reached into my plain leather clutch, pulled out my tablet, and tapped the screen twice. As Chairwoman, I had direct real-time access to all active procurement portals across our subsidiaries.

I searched Miller Express.

"Ah, yes. Jason Miller," I said, reading off the encrypted screen. "Your bid was flagged yesterday by our compliance department."

Jason’s smile froze. "Flagged? For what?"

"For safety violations, unpaid subcontractor liens, and inflating your fleet capacity by forty percent," I said calmly, looking up from the screen. "Your firm failed our basic background audit, Jason. The procurement team officially rejected your bid two hours ago."

Jason went dead silent. His eyes wide with horror. "E-Emily... please. Give us another chance! We can adjust the numbers! That contract is sixty percent of my company's projected revenue for next year! If we lose that bid, Miller Express goes under!"

"Then I suggest you focus on running an honest business instead of arranging high school reunion seating based on fake status," I said softly.

Jason opened his mouth to plead, but Sarah from Table 12 stepped in front of him. "I think you've taken enough of Ms. Carter's time tonight, Jason. Table 1 is waiting for you."

Jason backed away slowly, looking completely ruined, his gold watch glinting meaningless under the ballroom lights.

Meanwhile, Lauren was sitting alone at Table 1.

Her emerald gown looked absurd sitting in an empty circle of abandoned chairs. The diamond pendant around her neck no longer looked like royalty—it looked like a desperate, hollow shield.

She watched as the entire room clustered around the quiet girl in the linen dress whom she had offered a "pity job" less than an hour ago.