Chapter 8 - The Gala of Vipers
The annual Rossi Foundation Charity Gala was the most important social event of the New York elite season. This year, it was not just a fundraiser; it was a highly publicized battlefield. The press was swarming outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art, cameras flashing like strobe lights, desperate for a glimpse of the billionaire love triangle that had leaked to the tabloids just days prior. Victoria had made sure the press knew she was back, painting herself as the tragic, long-lost wife returning to find her husband seduced by a manipulative maid.
I stepped out of the black armored SUV, placing my hand in Dominic’s. I was wearing a breathtaking, custom-designed gown in a deep, commanding ruby red. The color of power. The vintage sapphire engagement ring sparkled defiantly on my finger. Dominic looked like a modern-day king in a sharp black tuxedo, his jaw set in stone. As the cameras flashed, he didn't just hold my hand; he wrapped his arm tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against his side, broadcasting to the entire world exactly who he belonged to.
We entered the grand ballroom, which was decorated with thousands of floating candles and white orchids. The elite of Manhattan turned their heads, whispers erupting like a sudden breeze through a forest.
"Keep your head high, my queen," Dominic whispered in my ear as we navigated the crowd. "They are sharks looking for a drop of blood. Don't give them a single drop."
Ten minutes later, Victoria made her entrance, and a collective gasp echoed through the room. She was wearing a slinky, silver backless dress, but it wasn't the dress that caught the room's attention. It was the jewelry. Resting against her collarbone was the legendary Rossi Diamond—a multi-million dollar heirloom necklace that had belonged to Dominic’s great-grandmother. It was the crown jewel of the estate’s vault.
Dominic’s grip on my waist tightened painfully. "She broke into the estate vault," he hissed, his eyes narrowing into deadly slits. "That necklace is meant for the matriarch of the family."
Victoria glided over to us, surrounded by a swarm of eager journalists and photographers who had paid off the museum guards to slip inside. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was forcing a public confrontation on camera.
"Dominic, darling," Victoria smiled sweetly, posing for the cameras, making sure the necklace caught the light. "Skylar. You look... festive. Did you make that dress yourself?"
"Victoria," Dominic warned, his voice a low growl that made the closest journalists step back. "Take the necklace off. Now. Before I call the police and have you arrested for grand larceny in front of the press."
"Larceny?" Victoria laughed, a high, tinkling sound. "I am your legal wife, Dominic. Marital assets belong to both of us. Besides, the board of directors agrees that the Rossi diamond belongs around the neck of a woman with the proper pedigree. Not a woman who used to scrub the toilets it was locked under."
The cameras snapped frantically. Victoria turned to the press, her eyes welling up with fake, perfectly executed tears. "It has been so difficult," she announced loudly. "Returning from a traumatic accident, only to find my husband manipulated by a woman who took advantage of his mother's dementia to rewrite the family will. Skylar is a predator, and I am simply here to protect my family's legacy."
The crowd gasped. The journalists shoved their recorders closer to my face. “Skylar, is it true you forged Carmela’s medical records?” “Skylar, did you seduce Dominic for the money?”
I felt the old panic rising in my chest, the terrifying feeling of being small, invisible, and powerless. But then I looked at the Rossi Diamond around Victoria's neck. I noticed the way the clasp was sitting slightly off-center. I noticed the faint, barely visible red rash creeping up her neck where the metal touched her skin.
I used to clean the vault. I used to polish that jewelry.
I stepped away from Dominic's protective embrace, walking directly up to Victoria. The cameras went into a frenzy. I didn't yell. I didn't cry. I smiled.
"It is a beautiful speech, Victoria," I said, my voice projecting clearly over the chaos. "And that is a beautiful necklace. But unfortunately, your pedigree didn't teach you how to tell a cubic zirconia from a real diamond."
Victoria froze. "Excuse me?"
"The real Rossi Diamond is locked in a secure off-site bank vault, where Dominic moved it three months ago," I said calmly, reaching out and tapping the massive center stone on her chest with my manicured fingernail. "What you are wearing is the glass replica used for public museum displays. The metal is a cheap nickel alloy, which is why your neck is currently breaking out in a massive allergic reaction."
The journalists immediately zoomed their lenses in on Victoria's neck, capturing the angry red hives spreading across her skin.
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"Furthermore," I continued, turning to the press, my voice ringing with absolute authority. "Carmela Rossi is in perfect health, and she will be releasing a public statement tomorrow alongside her neurologist. The only fraud here is a woman who faked her own death to evade federal taxes, and is now trying to steal a company she has no right to. Now, if you'll excuse us, my fiancé and I have a charity to fund."
I turned my back on Victoria, taking Dominic’s hand. We walked away to the sound of explosive camera shutters and Victoria's furious, humiliating screams as she desperately clawed the fake necklace off her burning skin.
