One month, that's how long it was after I broke up with my ex, I've struggled to move on. It wasn't just any relationship—it was my first love. And no one tells you how much that kind of heartbreak lingers. Some days, I wake up thinking I'm fine, only to catch myself checking my phone, half-expecting a message that would never come from now on. Other days, I throw myself into work, pretending that if I stay busy enough, the ache will fade on its own.
Work has become my distraction, my excuse to stay busy. I throw myself into meetings, client calls, and back-to-back events, telling myself that if I keep moving, I won't have time to dwell on the past. It mostly works—until the quiet moments creep in, reminding me that no amount of networking or carefully crafted small talk can fill the space he left behind.
Next month is another event, an important art gala at an upscale gallery downtown, hosted by one of the richest family in the world, the Ashford Familia, widely known for their high-end luxury empire and probably their looks too.. Everyone is excited to attend—not for the art, but for the rich man's son, Ethan Ashford; and the rich man's daughter, Lyla Ashford.
I, Lena Sterling, however, am here because I have to be. Not just for work, but because in my world, attending events like this isn't a choice—it's an expectation. The Sterlings are just as well-known, and skipping an event of this scale would be noticed. People watch, they whisper, they speculate. That's the reality of growing up with a last name that carries weight.
These galas are the kind of places where people sip expensive wine and pretend to admire paintings while quietly angling for business connections. I used to enjoy these nights, slipping easily into conversation and making all the right impressions. But lately, it all feels hollow—like I'm just going through the motions.
Still, I'll smile. I'll play the part. That's what we do.
I check my phone, scrolling through the event details one more time. The guest list is predictable—CEOs, designers, celebrities, and, of course, the Ashford inner circle. It's the kind of night where deals are made with a handshake over champagne, where the right conversation with the right person can change everything.
For me, it's another reminder of the world I was born into. The world I sometimes wish I could escape.
But there is no escaping it—not really. My last name opens doors, but it also comes with expectations, responsibilities, and the ever-watchful eyes of those waiting for a misstep. I know how this night will go before I even step into the venue. Polished greetings, subtle power plays disguised as small talk, and the inevitable questions about my family, my work, my future.
"Lena, darling, when are you joining the family business?"
"Have you seen the latest Sterling campaign? Simply divine."
"Your mother was at the Paris gala last month, wasn't she? Stunning, as always."
Every conversation, no matter how trivial, is laced with meaning. The right response strengthens alliances, the wrong one sparks rumors. That's how this world works.
The truth is, I don't know what I want my future to look like. I tell myself I'm carving my own path, separate from my family's legacy, but sometimes I wonder if that's even possible. People don't see me—they see Lena Sterling, daughter of an empire, another name on the guest list of the elite.
•
I sigh, tossing my phone onto the bed. The gala is still weeks away, but the weight of it already sits heavy on my shoulders.
And then there's Ethan Ashford.
I've never met him, but I know the stories. The mysterious heir to the Ashford dynasty, rarely seen at public events, constantly the subject of speculation. Some say he's a rebel, uninterested in the empire he's set to inherit. Others claim he's just as calculated as his father, playing the long game. Either way, people are obsessed with him.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little curious myself.
But curiosity is dangerous in a world like mine.