During The Embassy Ball, They Denied Knowing Me—Then The Ambassador Hugged Me скачать в хорошем качестве

During The Embassy Ball, They Denied Knowing Me—Then The Ambassador Hugged Me

#aita #reddit #redditstories During The Embassy Ball, They Denied Knowing Me—Then The Ambassador Hugged Me ‪‪@echoofwrath-w2y‬ The invitation to the French Embassy's annual gala arrived on thick cream cardstock with gold embossing. "Ms. Sophie Laurent - Personal Guest of Ambassador Laurent." Below, in smaller script: "Black tie required. Security clearance necessary." I texted my mother a photo of the invitation. Her response came twenty minutes later: "That's nice, dear. We'll be attending as well—your father's firm represents several European companies. Perhaps we'll see you there." No questions about why I'd been personally invited by the French Ambassador. No curiosity about my connection to him. Just the usual dismissive acknowledgment that I existed somewhere on the periphery of their important lives. At twenty-seven, I'd grown accustomed to being the family afterthought. My older sister Clarissa was a corporate litigation attorney who'd made partner at thirty-two. My younger brother Nathan worked in international finance and spent half his time in London and Dubai. They were sophisticated, successful, exactly what our parents had envisioned. I was Sophie Laurent—though my family still called me Sophie Martin, refusing to acknowledge that I'd legally changed my surname three years ago. I "worked in translation services," according to my mother's vague explanations to her friends, a description that made it sound like I worked at a mall kiosk helping tourists. What they didn't know was that I was a senior diplomatic interpreter for the State Department. I'd worked at the United Nations, interpreted for three presidential summits, and was one of twelve people in the country certified for top-level security translations in French, Arabic, and Mandarin. I made $160,000 annually, had been recruited by five different intelligence agencies, and held a security clearance most people didn't know existed. I'd also been privately adopted by Ambassador Jean-Marc Laurent and his wife Véronique two years ago, following a formal French legal process. They were in their sixties, had lost their only daughter to cancer five years earlier, and had become my family in every way that mattered after we'd worked together during a diplomatic crisis in Geneva. My biological family knew none of this. They knew I'd spent time in France, assumed it was some extended vacation or language study program. They'd never asked for details. I'd also been financially supporting my parents for four years—$6,000 monthly deposits they called "investment returns" from money they'd supposedly put into my education. In reality, my father's law practice was struggling, and my mother's consulting business existed mostly on paper. Their luxury lifestyle ran primarily on my salary and occasional contributions from Clarissa. Three days before the embassy ball, Clarissa called. "Mom said you're going to the French Embassy gala?" "Yes. I was invited." "By whom? These events are extremely exclusive. You can't just buy tickets." "I was invited by Ambassador Laurent personally." A pause. "You mean you're translating at the event? That makes sense. Though I'm surprised they let service staff attend the actual ball. Usually interpreters work behind the scenes." I closed my eyes. "I'm attending as a guest, Clarissa." "Right. Well, we'll be there representing Dad's firm. Several major clients will be present, so please don't approach us for chitchat. These events are for professional networking, not family reunions. I'm sure you understand." "Perfectly." "And Sophie? Try to dress appropriately. I know you probably don't own formal gowns, but embassy events have strict dress codes. Maybe rent something? I'd hate for you to be turned away at the door." She hung up before I could respond. What Clarissa didn't know was that Véronique Laurent had taken me shopping in Paris last month, personally selecting a custom Chanel gown that had cost more than my car. "For the embassy ball," she'd insisted. "You must look like the daughter of a French ambassador." #aita #reddit #redditstories #redditstory #revengestory #revenge