There are times when I watch vertical dramas and can’t help but cringe. They often feel overly cheesy, impossibly corny, or so over-the-top violent that they become disrespectful to their female characters. But every once in a while, one pops up on my screen and surprises me in the best possible way.
High Society was one of those surprises.
Starring Chase Mattson as Cesare Buonaparte and Maria Barseghian as Adele, High Society isn’t quite what you’d expect. It’s the story of a young woman born into poverty with no family and not even a last name. Everything changes when she crosses paths with Cesare Buonaparte.
The two strike a deal: Adele will pose as Cesare’s sister so she can be married off in an arranged marriage, allowing him to avoid marrying a woman he can’t stand.
Now, there’s something you should know about Cesare.
He’s a duke, but he carries himself like he’s a king.
The man has an ego the size of Texas, but that’s part of what makes him so entertaining. He’s arrogant, endlessly confident, and overflowing with charm. He thinks incredibly highly of himself—perhaps a little too highly.
Then again, the entire town feeds that ego. Everyone fears him.
To Cesare, life is one big game.
So when Adele doesn’t arrive on time, he goes looking for her, only to discover she’s being attacked by a man she owes money to.
One thing I’ve noticed about vertical dramas is that the men always seem to be playing some sort of dominance contest. There’s always one man acting like the biggest threat in town while everyone cowers before him, only for several others to boast behind his back that they’re actually the one to fear.
I understand why the conflict exists—it gives the story tension—but I also find it hilarious because, more often than not, none of these men are nearly as intimidating as they think they are.
Cesare Buonaparte is no exception.
He’s not a man who needs to be feared.
He’s a man who needs to be challenged and Adele is exactly the woman to do it.
When Adele arrives at Cesare’s estate, he already has a plan for her. She’ll spend the next month being trained to fit into high society before making her official debut at his birthday ball. It’s all part of their arrangement, and Adele is willing to go along with it if it means surviving and making sure both she and her best friend are taken care of.
Then there’s the real batshit crazy character of the story.
Lucrezia Della Valle, played by Celine Planata.
She’s completely obsessed with Cesare and will stop at nothing to become his wife. It’s not romantic—it’s downright creepy. This woman is willing to eliminate anyone she sees as standing in her way. So the moment she hears about Adele, she immediately decides she has to meet her, despite knowing Cesare has made it very clear that no one is supposed to.
Of course, what Cesare wants and what actually happens are rarely the same thing.
One afternoon, Adele is outside walking when her maid asks her to wait while she retrieves a wheelchair. It should be a simple moment, but this is a vertical drama, so naturally a group of awful young men shows up and decides to harass her, eventually knocking her to the ground.
Cesare isn’t about to let that slide.
He steps in, puts the men firmly in their place, and makes it abundantly clear that no one touches someone under his protection.
The funny thing about Cesare is that he’s all contradictions.
In public, he rescues Adele without hesitation. In private? The moment they’re alone, he promptly drops her on her backside and scolds her for getting herself into trouble.
It’s peak Cesare behavior—equal parts protective, arrogant, and completely incapable of admitting he actually cares.
The problem—for Cesare, anyway—is that he’s fallen for Adele.
Hard.
He’d never admit it out loud, but it’s painfully obvious to everyone watching. Things only get more complicated when Esdra Della Valle develops feelings for Adele as well, forcing Cesare to confront emotions he’d much rather ignore.
For the first time, the man who always has the upper hand realizes there’s something he can’t control.
He wants Adele.
The biggest reason this drama works is because Chase Mattson and Maria Barseghian have fantastic chemistry. The two are completely committed to their performances and know exactly how to play off one another. Even when their characters are trading insults or trying to outmaneuver each other, there’s an ease between them that makes every interaction feel natural. You can tell they trust each other as scene partners, and that chemistry elevates even the most over-the-top moments.
That being said…
Even knowing Cesare and Adele aren’t actually siblings, I was still a little weirded out by the romance at first.
Yes, I understood the setup. Yes, I knew it was a fake sibling relationship. And yes, I’ve watched enough vertical dramas to know exactly where the story was headed.
It still felt a little awkward.
I definitely spent a few scenes watching through my fingers, waiting for the story to finally acknowledge what everyone already knew.
Thankfully, once the fake sibling angle started taking a back seat, I found myself rooting for them again.
Because despite the strange premise, Chase and Maria simply work together.
What I appreciated most was that Adele never really had to pretend around Cesare. Everyone else expected her to become someone different—to be refined, polished, and worthy of high society. Around him, even while they were arguing, she could still be herself.
Ironically, the one person she was pretending for was also the only person who truly saw her.
Esdra Della Valle was never someone Adele should have settled for.
On the surface, he seemed like the better choice. He was polite, respectable, and presented himself as the kind, dependable man. But the more I watched him, the more obvious it became that his kindness was conditional.
He judged people by their status, treated those beneath him as though they were less than, and constantly positioned himself as Adele’s savior instead of seeing her as an equal. He carried himself like he was morally superior to everyone around him, when in reality he was just a miserable man hiding behind good manners.
Cesare may have been arrogant, but at least you always knew where you stood with him.
Esdra smiled to your face while quietly looking down on you.
As Adele’s wedding day drew closer, I was genuinely surprised by one of Cesare’s most vulnerable moments.
For perhaps the first time in his life, his confidence disappeared.
He begged Adele for one night together—just one—hoping it would somehow be enough to get her out of his system.
Of course, anyone watching knew it wouldn’t.
You don’t get over someone you love in a single night.
Adele wanted him just as much, and that was what made the scene work. Their feelings were finally out in the open, but love wasn’t the only thing driving her decisions.
She had spent her entire life fighting to escape poverty.
For Adele, choosing love meant risking the only chance she’d ever had at security. As much as her heart wanted Cesare, her head reminded her that love couldn’t guarantee a roof over her head or a future for herself and her best friend.
It was one of the rare moments where High Society slowed down enough to let its romance feel genuinely bittersweet instead of simply melodramatic.
Adele and Cesare do their best to avoid each other, but there’s only so long two people with that much chemistry can stay apart. Eventually, Cesare stops fighting his feelings and makes his intentions clear.
It’s always going to be the two of them.
Forever.
They’ll fight, argue, bicker, and inevitably make up. That’s just who they are. They challenge each other in ways no one else can, and somehow, every argument only seems to strengthen the bond between them.
In the end, they learn to look past the gossip, ignore the expectations of everyone around them, and find peace in each other.
What I loved most about High Society was that it felt like a sarcastic fairy tale. It embraced every over-the-top romance trope—forced proximity, fake siblings, star-crossed lovers, impossible odds—and somehow managed to make them entertaining instead of exhausting. It never took itself too seriously, and I think that’s exactly why it worked.
I finished it and immediately hit play again.
That’s probably the highest compliment I can give a vertical drama.
And a huge part of that comes down to Chase Mattson and Maria Barseghian. Their chemistry carries the story from beginning to end, making even the most ridiculous plot twists feel believable because you genuinely buy into their connection.
So here’s my request to the powers that be:
Please cast Chase Mattson and Maria Barseghian in more dramas together.
I’ll be watching.
