The gala was designed to intimidate.
Crystal chandeliers glittered like frozen stars above the marble ballroom. The elite of the city gathered in tailored suits and silk gowns, laughter sharp and calculated.
Lianna stepped inside—
And the room noticed.
Whispers rippled instantly.
"That's her."
"Lucien Blackwood brought her?"
"I thought the engagement was canceled…"
Lianna's spine straightened.
Good, she thought. Let them look.
Lucien stood beside her, dressed in a black tuxedo that screamed power without trying. His hand rested lightly at her lower back—not claiming, not restraining.
Warning.
"You're calm," he murmured.
"I've already died once," Lianna replied softly. "What's a room full of vipers compared to that?"
Lucien's lips curved faintly. "Careful. They bite when provoked."
As if summoned, Isabella approached.
She wore white.
A calculated insult.
"Lucien," Isabella greeted warmly, then turned to Lianna with a smile that never touched her eyes. "I didn't realize tonight was… informal."
Lianna glanced at her, unbothered. "I didn't realize white was still worn to mourn."
Isabella's smile cracked.
Lucien chuckled quietly.
The orchestra swelled. Glasses clinked. Eyes followed their every movement.
Then—
The auction began.
Lianna listened idly until she heard it.
"Next item," the host announced, "a donation from Moore Investigations—confidential documents exposing illegal dealings within Blackwood Group."
The room erupted.
Ethan.
Her blood turned cold.
Lucien stiffened beside her.
Slowly, he turned his head and looked at her—not angry.
Disappointed.
"You didn't tell me you were planning this," he said quietly.
Lianna's mind raced.
Ethan wouldn't move without telling me.
This wasn't his plan.
This was a trap.
"I didn't," she said firmly.
The host continued, oblivious—or pretending to be.
"These documents suggest—"
Lucien raised his hand.
The orchestra stopped.
The room froze.
"That auction is canceled," Lucien said calmly. "Immediately."
Guards moved.
Panic spread.
Isabella's eyes shone with triumph.
But Lianna stepped forward.
"Wait," she said.
Lucien turned sharply. "Lianna."
She faced the crowd, voice clear.
"If anyone here believes those documents are real," she said coolly, "I invite you to examine them."
Gasps echoed.
Lucien stared at her.
"You're risking everything."
She met his gaze.
"So are you."
The host hesitated—then handed her the folder.
Lianna opened it.
And smiled.
"These are forgeries," she announced. "Poor ones."
She turned the pages deliberately.
"Wrong timestamps. Altered signatures. And a metadata trail leading directly to—"
She looked up.
"Director Isabella Moretti."
Silence exploded.
Isabella stepped back. "You're lying—"
Lucien's voice cut through the room like a blade.
"Seize her."
Guards moved instantly.
Isabella screamed as she was dragged away, eyes wild with hatred locked on Lianna.
"You think this is over?" Isabella shrieked. "You don't belong in his world!"
Lianna watched her go, expression calm.
When the doors closed, the room erupted into applause—nervous, relieved, impressed.
Lucien leaned close, voice low and dangerous.
"You just saved my empire," he said.
"And declared yourself its queen."
Lianna didn't smile.
Because she knew one truth—
Tonight, she hadn't just survived.
She had chosen a side.
And there was no turning back.