Chapter 9 - The Sterling Gala
The ballroom at the Waldorf Astoria was unrecognizable from the night before. Gone were the ostentatious, tacky ice sculptures and heavy floral arrangements of the Vance anniversary.
Tonight, the room was a masterclass in lethal elegance. Black velvet, silver accents, and security tighter than a presidential detail. The guest list consisted of the absolute apex of global power. European royals, Wall Street titans, tech billionaires. The people Julian had spent his entire life pretending to be equal to.
Julian and Beatrice stood outside the velvet ropes. They looked pathetic. Julian was in a suit he had bought off the rack at a discount store an hour earlier, and Beatrice was wearing the same dress from the morning, though it was now severely wrinkled.
"Name?" the head of security asked, looking at them with undisguised contempt.
"Julian Vance. I have an invitation," Julian said, holding up his phone.
The guard scanned the barcode. It beeped green. He stepped aside, allowing them to pass, but not before muttering, "Dead men walking."
As they entered the ballroom, the lively chatter instantly died. Hundreds of eyes turned toward them. Not with admiration. With predatory amusement. They were the evening's entertainment.
Standing on the grand staircase, bathed in a spotlight, was Seraphina.
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She looked absolutely ethereal in a custom black gown that dripped with diamonds—real ones. Around her neck sat the genuine Habsburg diamond, reclaimed from the pawnbroker Beatrice had secretly sold it to years ago.
She looked down at Julian. The silence in the room was absolute.
