Chapter 4 - The Guest List
By Friday evening, the Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a glittering spectacle of old Chicago money, bespoke tuxedos, designer gowns, and champagne flutes catching the crystal chandeliers' light.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in our suite, running my hands over the emerald-green silk dress Daniel had insisted I wear. It fit like a glove, hugging every curve, but looking at my reflection, I didn't see a victim or a betrayed wife. I saw a woman carved out of ice and resolve.
Daniel stood behind me, adjusting his silk bow tie in the mirror, looking every bit the successful, charming corporate executive.
“You look breathtaking, Em,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders, his reflection smiling proudly. “Tonight is going to change everything for us. Just follow my lead, smile for the cameras, and let’s remind everyone why we’re the golden couple.”
“I’ll make sure everyone remembers us, Daniel,” I replied, my voice holding a double meaning he was entirely too arrogant to decode.
When we walked into the ballroom, all eyes turned toward us. Flashbulbs popped from local society photographers capturing the corporate elite. Daniel played his part to perfection, wrapping a possessive arm around my waist, whispering jokes in my ear, and introducing me to senior partners with glowing pride.
For the first hour, it was a masterclass in high-society theater.
Then, around 8:30 p.m., while Daniel was distracted talking to the firm’s managing director near the bar, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.
I turned around.
Standing there, holding a flute of champagne with an expression of icy, aristocratic amusement, was Margaret. She looked magnificent in a structured midnight-blue velvet gown, her silver hair styled in a flawless chignon.
“You look radiant, my dear,” Margaret murmured, touching my arm.
“Thank you,” I smiled softly. “Though I feel like I’m standing on a live grenade.”
“Let it explode,” Margaret replied, her eyes scanning the crowded room. “Look toward the eastern entrance.”
I turned my head discreetly.
Walking through the grand double doors of the ballroom was Vanessa Reed.
She wasn't wearing a cocktail dress. She was dressed in a striking, plunging crimson gown that demanded every eye in the room. She looked around the ballroom with wide, breathless eyes, holding a printed paper invitation in her manicured fingers.
My breath caught. “Margaret... did you...?”
“I merely suggested to a few senior partners that it would be progressive and wonderfully modern to include independent consultants in this year’s gala networking mixer,” Margaret said smoothly, taking a sip of her champagne. “And since Vanessa’s new consulting firm Veritas has been handling confidential portfolio transfers for certain senior directors... well, an invitation simply appeared in her mailbox.”
Veritas Consulting.
The exact shell company Daniel had been funneling marital funds into.
Across the room, Daniel froze mid-sentence. His glass of scotch slipped from his fingers, shattering against the marble floor with a sharp crash that instantly silenced the cluster of executives standing around him.
May you like
His face drained of all color as his eyes locked onto Vanessa, who was now scanning the room and locking her gaze directly onto him with a bright, predatory smile.
The trap had just been sprung.
