Chapter 2: The Whispers in the Marble Hallways
The tension in the ballroom was thick enough to cut with a knife. Instead of fleeing in shame as Victoria had expected, Alera remained perfectly still. Her steady gaze began to make Victoria uncomfortable. The socialite shifted her weight, her smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before she masked it with renewed hostility.
"Are you deaf?" Victoria demanded, stepping closer, her expensive perfume suffocating the air. "I told you to leave. You’re ruining the aesthetic of the party. Do you even know whose estate you are standing in? This is Velvet Manor. It belongs to the most powerful, reclusive billionaire legacy in the country. A family so wealthy they could erase your entire existence with a single phone call."
Alera tilted her head slightly. "Is that so? And I suppose you think you are highly valued by this family?"
"My father is negotiating a multi-million-dollar merger with the estate's trustee tonight," Victoria bragged, crossing her arms. "By tomorrow, my family will practically co-own this entire region. So yes, I have the authority to kick a nobody like you out."
The crowd murmured in awe of Victoria's connections. But Alera’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. It was a smile of pure pity.
Before Victoria could unleash another insult, the heavy double doors at the front of the ballroom swung open. A collective hush fell over the entire room, deeper and more profound than before. A powerful man in a flawless, bespoke tuxedo strode into the room. It was Julian Vance—no relation to Victoria, but rather Julian Sterling, the chief executor and face of the ultra-exclusive Sterling Trust, the entity that managed Velvet Manor.
Victoria’s eyes lit up with predatory ambition. She instantly forgot about Alera and turned toward Julian, fixing her hair and adopting her most charming, manipulative smile.
"Mr. Sterling!" Victoria called out, gliding toward him. "Thank goodness you’re here. I was just doing the estate a favor. A completely uncultured trespasser managed to slip past your security. She's dressed like a peasant and making a scene. I was just throwing her out."
Julian Sterling stopped in his tracks. He didn't look at Victoria. His piercing blue eyes locked instantly onto Alera. His face grew incredibly pale when he noticed the dark red wine dripping from her sacred, hand-woven dress.
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A wave of absolute fury passed over Julian’s face, so intense that the guests closest to him involuntarily took a step back. Victoria, completely blind to his expression, kept talking. "I even had to spill wine on her just to get her to move. She’s incredibly stubborn—"
Julian cut her off, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper that echoed through the silent hall. "You did what?"
