Chapter 5 - The Gala of RetributionThe Grand Ballroom of the St. Regis was packed to capacity. The air was thick with tension, curiosity, and the scent of expensive perfume. Every news outlet in the city had cameras set up outside, waiting to catch the downfall of Roman DeLuca’s "bargain bride."
Celeste Moreau stood near the center of the room, sipping champagne in a blood-red designer dress, surrounded by a circle of eager journalists and wealthy admirers.
"It’s sad, really," Celeste lied smoothly to a reporter. "Lena seemed like a quiet girl, but ambition can corrupt anyone. She tricked poor Roman, stole millions from her company, and now the truth is finally coming out."
"And what truth would that be, Ms. Moreau?"
The crowd gasped as the heavy wooden doors swung open.
Roman DeLuca walked in, immaculate in a black velvet tuxedo. But all eyes immediately shifted to the woman on his arm.
I walked beside him in a breathtaking, floor-length silver gown that draped over my silhouette like liquid moonlight. Around my neck hung the legendary DeLuca Sapphire—a priceless 50-carat blue diamond that belonged exclusively to the matriarch of the DeLuca family.
Celeste’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. "How dare you show your face here! Officers!"
Two plainclothes NYPD detectives stepped out from the shadows, looking uncomfortable as they approached us. "Mr. DeLuca, Mrs. DeLuca... we have a warrant regarding the Laurent Logistics fraud—"
"Before you execute that warrant, Detective," Roman interrupted coolly, snapping his fingers, "I suggest you take a look at the main screen."
Suddenly, the massive projector screen behind the stage flickered to life.
Instead of the charity foundation presentation, a video played. It was crystal-clear security footage from three nights ago inside Victor Laurent’s old office.
On the screen, Celeste Moreau herself was sitting at Victor's computer, executing the wire transfers and using a digital trace pad to forge my signature onto the financial documents while Victor nervously paced behind her!
The ballroom erupted into chaotic gasps. Camera flashes went off like lightning bolts.
"What is this?! Turn it off!" Celeste screamed, turning pale as snow. "It's a fake! It's an AI video!"
"It is entirely real, authenticated by federal cybersecurity agents," I said, stepping forward, my voice ringing clear and strong across the silent ballroom. "And if you look at the lower corner of the screen, you will see the timestamp proves Celeste broke into the office hours before I was even accused."
Roman stepped beside me, putting a possessive arm around my waist. "Celeste Moreau, you are under arrest for corporate espionage, identity theft, and grand larceny. Detectives... I believe you brought handcuffs for the wrong woman."
The detectives immediately turned toward Celeste. Within seconds, her hands were cuffed behind her back as she screamed and thrashed, her blood-red dress swishing uselessly as she was dragged out of the ballroom in front of every major news camera in New York.
Victor Laurent was pulled away in handcuffs right behind her.
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The room broke into thunderous applause. I looked up at Roman, my heart overflowing with relief and gratitude. We had won. We had cleared my name and crushed our enemies.
So why did my heart feel so heavy? Because the contract was fulfilling its purpose, and soon, it would all be over.
