Chapter 11
I turned away, letting my hair fall like a curtain as I walked off, slow and unbothered, leaving him standing there like the ghost of the man who thought he broke me.
I hadn’t even made it halfway to the private viewing lounge when I heard the clack of stilettos coming fast behind me and a shrill voice cut through the room like a knife coated in desperation.
“How dare you seduce my fiancé now?!”
I turned slowly. Took my time. Because of course it was her–Caroline in all her try–hard glory, squeezed into a skintight designer dress, sparkly and loud, like a walking social climber’s wet dream. Blond waves styled to death, flawless makeup, and yet… still looking like a cheap replica of a better original. Me.
The room got quieter. Not silent, but definitely tense. People were listening now.
I raised my brow at her. “Seduce him?” I let out a low laugh. “Oh, Caroline, sweetheart. I
haven’t even touched him.”
Her eyes were wide, mascara fluttering, lips trembling in that fake–vulnerable way she loved to weaponize. “You’re just his ex–wife. You have no right to even speak to him.”
I tilted my head, taking her in like I was inspecting a knockoff handbag. Pretty, sure. But there’s always something off about the stitching.
“And yet…” I took a slow step forward, deliberately lowering my voice just enough for Favio to hear, but loud enough for the onlookers to feel. “The way he looks at me, Caroline? He’s unraveling. Hooked. Hard.”
Her cheeks flushed. “You’re delusional. He’s with me. We have a baby now-”
“Premature at seven months,” I said, cutting in. “Yeah, I heard. Cute. The poor kid’s probably in the penthouse surrounded by nannies and nurses while mommy plays socialite and daddy pretends to be a family man.”
Her mouth dropped open like she couldn’t believe I had the audacity.
I just smiled wider. “You left a newborn to come yell at me at an art auction? Wow. You’re not even trying to look maternal. I guess that’s one way to keep your figure.”
“You bitch,” she hissed.
“Oh, careful now,” I said sweetly. “Your halo’s slipping.”
Favio stepped between us then, tension stiff in his body, trying to play peacemaker–but the way his eyes clung to me? It said everything. He wasn’t hearing Caroline. He was seeing me.
“Look at him,” I told her, still smiling. “I don’t need to seduce him. He’s already halfway gone. Boner, heartbreak, guilt… all tangled in one. You think you’ve won because you’re going to marry him? You’re just holding onto what I left behind.”
She gasped, and I walked away, letting my heels echo like punctuation marks.
I didn’t look back. Because I didn’t need to.
Cham
10
3/3 1208
12:39 Tue, 24 Jun M
ravio would come lawiny.
They always do.
98
Perched in a silk robe on the balcony of my hotel suite in Rome, a full–bodied red in hand, legs stretched out, phone buzzing like a beehive from the chaos I’d unleashed.
“BOOM.”
Another headline just dropped. Tabloids running wild.
*CAROLINE CUNNINGHAM’S SECRET PARISIAN LOVER EXPOSED!*
*PRE–WEDDING SCANDAL ROCKS CUNNINGHAM HOUSEHOLD*
*WAS THIS A LOVE TRIANGLE… OR JUST A LIE?*
Poor Caroline. Or maybe not.
I smiled into my wineglass just as my encrypted line lit up. Rosa. My little spy still working as the discreet maid in Cunningham’s penthouse. Girl had loyalty and a mouth like gold.
I picked up.
“What’s the update, querida?”
She didn’t even say hi. She was laughing. Like wheezing. “Dios mío, you won’t believe it! He’s screaming, Miss Amelia. Screaming! Señor Favio threw a goddamn Baccarat vase!”
I grinned. “Ah. The vase. Good taste. That one was ugly anyway.”
“Señora Caroline was shouting too. Saying he’s a hypocrite! She slapped his face, and then he said–wait, let me remember–‘You made me a public clown. You kissed a man behind
my
back in Paris while I planned your engagement!”
“Ohhh, I love it when they argue with receipts.”
Rosa continued, “And then she screamed, ‘You still want your ex–wife! Admit it! You look at her like she’s art!‘ And I swear to God, Miss Amelia, Favio went quiet. Just… nothing. Like,
froze.”
I kicked my foot up with glee. “Busted.”
“Then Caroline asked if your new body was fake and he said, ‘You wouldn’t understand transformation if it hit you in the face.“” Rosa was cackling. “Señora ran into the guest. room crying. I think she threw her engagement ring at the wall.”
“Ugh, melodrama,” I muttered. “Can’t even do betrayal gracefully.”
“Do you want me to check the trash for the ring?”
“Not yet,” I said, sipping slowly. “Let her sit in her mess for a few days. If they break it off, I want the world to see it fall apart live.”
There was a knock at my door–my stylist team bringing in tomorrow’s outfit. A blood–red gown so sharp it could slit a throat.
“Gotta go, Rosa. But text me if she cries again. I want details.” I hung up and leaned back, eyes flicking to the television.
12:38 Tue 24 JOS
0%A
Mrs. Cunningham was doing per veus now, her Botoxed smile cracking under pressure
ceming everthing
“Private matters se vete press “Nothing is confirmed. My son is very happy.”
Sure babe. He’s so happy he’s trying to track down emails and yelling over French perfume
and baby nannies tited my wine glass to the screen. “To nothing being confirmed.”
Because while they were busy placing damage control, I was three steps ahead.
This wasn’t just revenge anymore
it was power
And I was crunk on it.
