Chapter 2 - Walking Into the Lion's DenThe Grandview Ballroom was a sickening display of vulgar opulence. Crystal chandeliers dripped from twenty-foot ceilings, and white roses imported from the Netherlands choked the air with a sweet, heavy scent. Hundreds of Chicago’s high-society elites—corporate executives, wealthy socialites, and Adrian’s smug colleagues—sipped champagne and laughed.
When I stepped through the grand double doors, the ambient chatter didn’t just lower; it died entirely.
Heads snapped in my direction. Whispers slithered across the room like venom.
“Isn’t that… his ex-wife?” “The barren one?” “What is she wearing? She looks dangerous.”
I didn’t shrink. I squared my shoulders, lifting my chin with cold, regal poise. I wasn't wearing the muted, trembling colors of a victim. The deep sapphire gown clung to my curves, and my heels clicked against the marble floor with the steady, rhythmic impact of a ticking bomb.
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Across the room, standing beside a ten-tier wedding cake, Adrian froze. His champagne flute stopped halfway to his mouth. Beside him, Celeste looked resplendent in a custom Vera Wang gown that couldn’t quite hide her four-month baby bump.
Adrian handed his glass to a passing waiter and marched across the room toward me, his face twisted in an ugly mix of shock and fury.
