Chapter 276
No.1
Allena, her face flushed with a mixture of triumph and rage, spun on her heel and marched back toward the head table, a conquering hero returning to her throne.
Just then, the hotel's French manager, dressed in a formal tuxedo and white gloves, entered the ballroom. He carried a silver tray, covered with a black velvet cloth, held aloft wvith practiced reverence.
A single spotlight followed him, cutting through the ambient light of the ballroom. A hush fell over the crowd.Everyone knew what was under that cloth.
The manager stopped beside August and bowed slightly. "Monsieur Chambers. The item you requested."
It was a lie. August hadn't requested a thing. This was Allena's final, decisive move, a checkmate she had arranged with ahefty bribe.
No.2
August's face went rigid. His eyes, cold and dark,fixed on the manager with an expression of pure murder.
But the guests were already lost in the drama. The chanting started again, louder this time. "Open it!Open it!"
Allena was practically vibrating with excitement.She knew August was trapped. For the sake of appearances, for the sake of the Chambers name,he would not expose this lie. She had won.
She didn't even wait for him. She stepped forward and, with a theatrical flourish, whipped the velvet cloth off the tray.
Nestled on the silver were two signature red boxes from Cartier. They were open, revealing a pair of stunning,diamond-encrusted wedding bands.
No.3
The room erupted. The applause was deafening,mixed with whoops and cheers.
Allena turned back to August, her eyes shining with fake,crocodile tears.
"August, darling," she cooed, her voice amplified by the microphone she was still near. "Since you're being so shy, I guess it's up to me to be the modern woman."
She gathered the skirt of her gown. In front of hundreds of people, she was about to get down on one knee and propose to a married man.
A wave of dizziness washed over Elisa. The cheering of the crowd dissolved into a high-pitched ringing in her ears, a wall ofwhite noise.
No.4
That was it. Enough.
She pushed her chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the polished floor. The sound was lost in the general din, but it was a declaration of war to herself.
She grabbed her clutch and turned, walking quickly toward the large double doors at the side of the hall. She had to get out. She couldn't breathe in this room filled with lies and poison.
From the corner of her eye, Allena saw Elisa's retreat. A cruel, triumphant smile spread across her face. She had broken her. She had finally,completely broken her.
Elisa's pace quickened, her heels sinking into the thick carpet. She was almost running now,desperate for the exit, for air, for escape.
No.5
Her hand reached for the cold brass handle of the door.
Just as her fingers were about to close around it,another hand shot out from the side. A large,masculine hand, a Patek Philippe watch gleaming
on the wrist, pressed flat against the wooden door panel.
Thump.
The door was held shut.
No.6
Elisa stopped, startled. She turned her head and found herself looking into a pair of eyes as deep and dark as the ocean.
L. Thorne stood there, dressed in an immaculate three-piece suit, his body an immovable wall between her and the exit.
"Running away is not your style, Faye," he said.His voice was low, yet it cut through the noise of the ballroom with perfect clarity.
"Get out of my way, Thorne," she said, her voice trembling with suppressed rage and humiliation."I'm not in the mood for games."
He didn't move. He took a step closer, trapping her in the small space between his body and the door.
No.7
"I'm not playing a game," he said, his eyes narrowing, becoming sharp and dangerous. "I'm here to end this farce."