CHAPTER 7
Celeste tried to flee, but the ballroom had been sealed off by the federal agents the moment Damian walked through the door. The irony was palpable—the woman who had trapped others was now trapped in the very society she had manipulated for years.
“This is a setup!” she screamed, her voice losing its composed, elegant quality. “Damian Castelmont is a fraud! He’s the one who’s sick!”
No one was listening. The evidence displayed on the screen was undeniable—forged documents, wire transfers, and even text messages between Celeste and her accomplices.
“She’s right about one thing,” Damian said, turning to address the crowd of stunned elites. “I am sick. Sick of the corruption that allows people like her to exist.”
As the officers moved in to escort Celeste out, she looked at Damian with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You think you won? This isn't over, Damian. I have people who will destroy you.”
“Let them come,” Damian retorted, his voice calm. “I’m not the man you took three years ago.”
May you like
She was shoved into the back of a police cruiser, her designer gown snagging on the metal door as she was hauled away. The spectators watched in shock, realizing that the queen of Manhattan had finally been dethroned in the most public way possible.
Damian didn't stay to watch her go. He turned and walked out of the gala, his heart light, heading home to the one place that mattered.
