“Don’t act so smug Remember, we’re in this together now. Are you really content to watch Niamh bask in the limelight?”
The moment Marina said this, the smirk on Susy’s face vanished.
Content? Not a chance.
Niamh had ruined what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life–her wedding. She’d made Susy the punchline of the season. There was no way she could just let it go.
“By the way, who even is this Niamh? How is it that even those government–backed scholars are fawning over her?”
Marina scoffed. “Who could she possibly be? She’s just a housewife, really. All she’s got going for her is a bit of charm.”
“A bit of charm… Ha!”
Susy let out a cold, sharp laugh.
Let her charm all the men she wants.
Marina kept a careful eye on Susy’s expression. She decided Susy was the perfect ally–better connected, more powerful, but just as eager to see Niamh fall.
Marina was certain she wouldn’t even need to lift a finger; Susy would find her own ways to make Niamh miserable.
For now, though, Marina had other priorities. She needed to win Jonathan back. That was the only thing that mattered tonight.
Setting her wine glass down, Marina gathered up her evening gown and strode confidently toward Jonathan.
“Jonathan, would you like to dance?”
Jonathan turned to look at her.
That single glance chilled her to the bone.
She couldn’t remember a time when Jonathan had looked at her with such cold
detachment.
She used to be his first love, his shining star, his everything–or at leas it was back in high school.
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But now…
Something had quietly shifted over the years.
Marina had to admit, she hadn’t exactly covered herself in glory tonight. She’d embarrassed herself–and by extension, Jonathan.
Still, that ridiculous child’s crown–Jonathan was smart enough to see she’d been set up. There was no way, with her talent, she could have designed something so kitschy for Queen Elizabeth.
Yet Jonathan hadn’t said a word in her defense.
He’d barely even looked her way all night.
His gaze had been fixed on only one person: Niamh.
If the first real stir of the evening had been the debut of the sapphire angel crown Niamh designed for Queen Elizabeth, the true crescendo was Niamh herself making her entrance.
She swept back into the ballroom, Elmer at her side.
The moment she crossed the threshold, every head in the room turned toward her.
“Look! That’s the gown that broke every record at the Solmaris Royal Auction last month!”
“I heard it fetched seven million!”
“That’s right–there’s only one in the world. The late royal designer’s final masterpiece… I never thought I’d see it in person.”
“Dr. White must have spent a fortune to win over Mr. Thomas’s ex–wife.”
“Think Mr. Thomas regrets the divorce now?”
The whispers flew, a tangled web of gossip Niamh couldn’t help but overhear as she walked in. Her nerves prickled.
Elmer had neglected to mention just how valuable the gown was–seven million, and the only one in existence.
But Niamh knew quality when she saw it. The gown’s ivory silk taffeta was impossibly fine, delicately overlaid with lace, every three–dimensional rose painstakingly crafted from real rubies and emeralds. Even if it wasn’t unique, it would easily be worth millions.
“This is the only dress worthy of your beauty,” Elmer had said, making her cheeks
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flush.
Hand in hand, the two of them slipped onto the dance floor.
Jonathan’s gaze followed them, unblinking.
…Alright,” he said at last, after a long pause, finally accepting Marina’s invitation to
dance.
