Chapter 265
After the runway show, as was tradition at Luminous Divas Fashion Week, all participating designers and guests were invited to a lavish banquet at The Grand Primus Ballroom.
Except Marina never received her invitation.
When she went to ask–somewhat embarrassed–the event staff finally admitted they’d simply forgotten her.
Now, standing there with the hastily handed–over invitation, no amount of perfectly applied makeup could mask the fury burning inside her.
What was this supposed to mean?
Did she really have to rely on someone’s charity just to be allowed into the banquet?
She’d gone to such lengths for this jewelry fashion week–preparing three custom haute couture gowns, each worth a small fortune.
In the dressing room, Marina noticed that Niamh had only brought a single evening
dress.
If she sprayed the rest of her hydrochloric acid onto Niamh’s gown, Niamh would have no choice but to attend the banquet in a plain black pantsuit.
Marina had even waited for Niamh to step out to throw something away, sneaking over to where Niamh had laid out her dress.
But then she hesitated.
Even if she ruined that gown, it’s not as if Niamh would be left without anything to
wear.
It all felt so childish.
Thinking of the cold shoulder she’d received today, and how Niamh and Quentin had played her for a fool, Marina could barely swallow her anger.
Destroying a dress wasn’t nearly enough.
If she wanted revenge, she needed to ruin something that really mattered to Niamh. Her face.
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Marina hurried back to her own locker, a fresh idea taking root.
The Grand Primus Ballroom sparkled with gold and crystal, laughter and conversation flowing through the air.
Before the show, Niamh never imagined she’d become the center of attention at Luminous Divas Fashion Week.
After all, she was just a newcomer. To keep a low profile, she’d chosen a simple black off–shoulder mermaid dress–elegant and reserved, a safe choice that wouldn’t draw too much notice.
She assumed she’d be the most forgettable person in a room full of wealthy socialites and celebrities. But the moment she set foot in the ballroom, a cluster of industry heavyweights immediately gravitated toward her.
Niamh wasn’t a natural at socializing.
But in a room like this, she didn’t have much choice.
Marina entered after Niamh, wearing the most decadent–and expensive–of her three gowns. Pale pink silk scattered with thousands of natural crystals, her hair styled to perfection, and a dazzling pink diamond hairpiece she’d debuted on the runway still sparkling in her hair.
Marina thought, even if these people didn’t care for her designs, at least they’d notice her stunning ensemble.
But as she drifted through the ballroom, she felt invisible.
Not even Jonathan spared her a glance–he was too busy schmoozing with business tycoons to notice she existed at all.
Marina bit her lower lip, pushing down the anger rising in her chest, and began searching for her target.
The Grand Primus Ballroom was massive, and the guest list for Luminous Divas Fashion Week even more so. Many attendees couldn’t care less about the runway, but no one would miss a chance to mingle with the powerful, trade secrets, and forge new alliances.
Take Peter, for example. He’d missed the show because of work, but had still managed to wrangle an invite to the banquet. He fought his way through the swarm of VIPs until he finally made it to Niamh’s side.
Niamh hadn’t expected to see Peter here.
He looked particularly dashing tonight in a tailored black British–style tailcoat, his
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hair slicked back in an elegant wave–handsome as she’d ever seen him.
“How do I look tonight?” Peter asked with a grin.
Niamh laughed. “Very charming.”
“Dressed up just for you,” he teased.
Niamh blinked, surprised, and Peter quickly added, “Kidding. Just kidding.”
As Niamh and Peter chatted and laughed, Jonathan cast a discreet glance their way from across the room. The irritation in his eyes was well–hidden behind dark
irises.
Meanwhile, Marina was still searching the crowd for her target–until she ran straight into Quentin.
He spotted her too, greeting her as if nothing were wrong, as if he didn’t notice the storm brewing behind her eyes.
Sure, he’d played her.
But Quentin never thought he’d done anything wrong.
