Chapter 13 - The Grand Entrance
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The Bellmont Grand Ballroom was a glittering sea of diamonds, tailored tuxedos, and desperate, hidden agendas.
When Lorenzo Moretti’s armored convoy pulled up to the red carpet, the paparazzi went into a frenzy. Lorenzo stepped out first, adjusting his cuffs with terrifying, effortless authority. He turned back, offering his hand, and helped Emma out of the vehicle.
The flashing cameras illuminated the emerald dress and the staggering diamonds at her throat. The press had no idea who she was, but the sheer, radiating power of the couple commanded immediate silence.
They walked into the ballroom.
As Lorenzo and Emma descended the grand marble staircase, the lively chatter of the room began to die out, rippling into a hushed, awe-struck silence. The apex predator of the city had arrived, and he had brought a goddess with him.
Emma kept her chin high, her hand resting firmly on Lorenzo's arm. She scanned the crowd, feeling the heavy, judgmental stares of the elite. And then, she saw them.
Charles, Vanessa, and their mother were standing near the main bar, trying desperately to look unaffected by the news of their financial ruin.
Vanessa was the first to see her.
The champagne flute slipped completely from Vanessa’s manicured fingers, shattering violently against the marble floor.
Charles spun around at the noise, his face turning an alarming shade of gray as his eyes locked onto his youngest daughter. The daughter he had offered as a sacrificial lamb. The daughter who was supposed to be locked in a basement cell, suffering for his sins.
Instead, Emma was draped in millions of dollars of diamonds, holding the arm of the man who had just destroyed their lives, looking more beautiful and powerful than Vanessa had ever managed in her entire existence.
"Smile," Lorenzo whispered in Emma's ear, a dark, wicked smirk playing on his own lips. "They look like they've seen a ghost."
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"I am a ghost," Emma murmured back, her eyes locking onto her father's terrified face. "And I've come to haunt them."
They glided across the ballroom floor, the crowd parting for them like the Red Sea. Lorenzo didn't avoid the Whitmore family; he steered Emma directly toward them. The confrontation was inevitable, and Emma was finally ready for it.
