Chapter 679

Eleanor glided across the dazzling red carpet, her steps deliberate, her every movement infused with an air of grace that seemed to silence the chatter around her. When she finally reached the banquet area, her eyes swept the grand hall until they settled on a table already surrounded by some of the evening’s most notable figures. Without hesitation, she chose that table—the one where Abigail Murray sat. Eleanor’s decision was no accident. Smoothly, she slid into the empty seat directly across from Abigail. A hush fell over the table. For a fleeting moment, the atmosphere tightened, heavy with unspoken tension. Abigail, statuesque in her poise, merely glanced at Eleanor. Her face was a mask of calm elegance, unreadable, as though Eleanor’s presence was beneath her notice. The others, however, were far less composed. Eyes flicked toward Eleanor with blatant scrutiny. Some were curious, others scornful, and a few looked openly hostile. Several of the celebrities didn’t even recognize her