Page 96 of The Gilded Survivor

She moved to kiss both of my cheeks. “I can’t tell you what an honor it is to have this year’s most popular candidate in our home. The people’s princess. Tiago told us you’d auditioned together, and I’ve been dying to meet you ever since.”

When she spoke, I watched how she kept her hands and arms close to her body as if she were holding them hostage. Recognition flickered. Someone had snuffed out the wild gesticulations. I liked her, but wished I could see her lurking chaos in motion.

After Señor Flores had also thanked us graciously for coming, Santiago mumbled a greeting and I turned around to face the rest of the room. Almost instantly, my eyes landed on a familiar smile. It was all dimples.

There they were. Father, mother, and son.

Isaac was a carbon copy of his father, Hugo, but he hardly looked anything like his mother. She was very small and petite, whereas he was one of the few boys taller than me. Her fan fluttered harder when our eyes met, which could’ve meant she was hot or that she was trying to blow me away with her feverish movements.

They both smiled as we walked up to them, but there was no pleased flicker of recognition I’d seen in Señora Jimenez. At least they couldn’t tell that my heart was threatening to pound straight out of my chest.

“Buenas noches,” Antonio said first. I followed immediately after.

They returned the action, and my eyes flicked to Isaac whose face was suspiciously blank, though a secretive gleam lit his entire expression from within.

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Hugo Monroy said, then chuckled because, of course, he had heard about me. I was on every channel seven days a week.Why weren’t they more impressed? They knew who I was, but not what I was to Isaac.

“You train in the same complex as Isaac, correct?” His white tie was starched to perfection, and he held a glass of sangria in his left hand, swirling it slightly to fill the air between us with that fruity alcoholic scent.

I nodded once, curbing my enthusiasm. Trying not to think of the stolen kisses in hallways and corners. “Yes. He’s one of the most memorable, without doubt,” I said lightly.

Isaac’s smile positively glowed for a split second while Antonio stepped closer to me.

“Well, we’ve heard the same about you from him,” Martina de León said. She smiled for the first time, and it was as lovely as Señora Jimenez. These women were porcelain dolls, crafted to perfect sweetness.

“That’s very kind to say,” I responded. Just as I was about to add a little witty quip about myself to the end, Antonio said, “With all due respect, she’s the best competitor this year.”

I gaped at him for a moment.

Señor Monroy chuckled, while his wife’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure you are obligated to say that, being her mentor. Call me old-fashioned, but twenty-one is too young to be in your position. Perhaps we should get Ivan on the line to see what he thinks.” The Élite winked, and we all shared a laugh.

Suddenly, I was boiling hot. Antonio had certainly stopped barking orders as often, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that he’d been complimenting me lately. I peered at Antonio for a second, but he was engrossed in a vigorous conversation about statistics with Isaac’s father.

My eyes found their way back to Señora de León.

She flashed a new, tight-lipped smile. “It really has been lovely meeting you. I hope we can chat later after dinner.”

I nodded as we exchanged kisses on our cheeks. It was time to move onto another family, but as I walked past Isaac his fingers brushed mine.

I immediately snapped around to look at him, but he was focused on the conversation Antonio was having with Señor Monroy.

Not wanting to interrupt them, I continued my rounds through the room. I met so many people, it was a miracle I didn’t mess up a single name. They all said something along the lines of how pleased they were to finally meet someone so famous, and how excited they were for the tournament this year.

One woman even apologized for my parents, while two others pointed out that Antonio was the only mentor in attendance tonight.

I caught the tail-end of conversations.

“…a blond beauty sitting right there in the study! Who knows where they found her, but…”

A tall man with a son I didn’t recognize smirked. “If he can afford to buy his wife a gold necklace, that means I’m paying him too much.”

That uneasy feeling which I had brought inside with me settled in the middle of my stomach, flowing through me in sickening waves as the night went on. It was hard to describe how much I hated how these people spoke.

Actual tears of relief misted my water lines when Señor Jimenez stepped into the middle of the room and rang a small bell presented to him by one of his servants.

“Dinner is ready, dear friends,” he called out. His voice was as rich and luxurious as his house.

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