Chapter 3

The private estate on Long Island was ablaze with light, a relentless stream of luxury cars pulling up to the fountain plaza.

The immense wealth of Desmond's family was on full display. The lawns were blanketed in white roses flown in from the Netherlands, while towering champagne pyramids refracted decadent light beneath crystal chandeliers. New York's high society mingled, champagne flutes in hand, trading hypocritical pleasantries.

I wore a deep burgundy haute couture velvet gown, balancing on four-inch stilettos as I walked into the banquet hall on Carter's arm.

Carter had gifted me this dress for my birthday, claiming I looked most beautiful in red—like a rose with thorns. Tonight, I was going to use those very thorns to ruthlessly pierce his heart.

Carter was visibly jumpy and paranoid tonight. Despite looking sharp in his tailored tuxedo, a thin sheen of sweat beaded his forehead.

His eyes darted through the crowd, clearly on high alert for Valerie, terrified that the woman who just last night threatened to jump off a balcony to force a hotel rendezvous might see me and cause a massive scene at her own engagement party.

"Nora, let's go over there and say hi to a few investment bank directors," he said, trying to steer me away from the main stage and the center of the crowd.

"No rush." I gently slipped my arm from his grasp, picking up a flute of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. I locked my eyes on the landing of the second floor. "The main characters haven't even made their appearance yet. How could we possibly hide in a corner?"

Right on cue, the hall's lights suddenly dimmed. A spotlight snapped onto the grand spiral staircase on the second floor.

Desmond, holding Valerie's hand, slowly descended.

As the sole heir to an old-money real estate empire, Desmond was tall and impossibly sharp-featured. His gaze held the steady composure of a man used to being at the very top, yet when he looked down at Valerie, there was a rare tenderness and devotion in his eyes.

And Valerie? Tonight, she looked like an innocent, thoroughly untainted angel.

Dressed in a sweeping white gown with her long hair elegantly pinned up, she wore a shy, blissfully happy smile.

Who could have possibly imagined that just last night—on my third wedding anniversary—this "angel" had used suicide as leverage in a hotel suite right downstairs, just to have a final go at another woman's husband?

Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Carter. His hands were clenched into such tight fists that his knuckles were stark white. His eyes were glued to Valerie, the intense possessiveness, jealousy, and bitter resentment practically spilling over.

"What's wrong? Having a hard time watching the woman who was threatening to kill herself for you just last night get married off to someone else?" I murmured, my voice pitched so only the two of us could hear.

Carter flinched violently, snapping his head to look at me. Battling tightly suppressed panic and rage, he hissed, "Nora, what the hell is wrong with you tonight? Everything out of your mouth is an attack. If you're in a bad mood, we're leaving right now."

"Leave? I came here specifically to congratulate her." I smiled, downing the rest of my champagne.

By now, Desmond had led Valerie to the microphone in the center of the hall. A hush fell over the room as all eyes fixed on the striking couple.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Desmond's deep, magnetic voice resonated, carrying an undeniable, commanding weight. "Today, I want to take this opportunity to make a lifelong promise to the beautiful, strong, and pure woman standing beside me."

Pure? I openly sneered in my mind. That encrypted folder logged "V_Project" on the server back home—packed with a full year of hotel receipts and filthy text screenshots—was the absolute perfect wedding gift for her "purity."

Desmond turned to face Valerie and dropped to one knee. He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and flicked it open, revealing an impeccably cut pigeon-blood ruby ring. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Valerie covered her mouth, her eyes instantly brimming with tears, perfectly playing the part of the innocent girl struck by overwhelming happiness.

"Valerie, will you marry me and become my wife?" Desmond looked at her with pure devotion.

"I..." Valerie choked out tearfully, the words I do already slipping from her lips.

"Wait!"

My voice rang out abruptly from the back of the crowd, violently tearing through the tenderly crafted scene.

Every pair of eyes in the hall whipped around and locked onto me.

Carter was scared completely out of his mind. He seized my wrist in a vice grip, sweat dripping down his temples as he snarled under his breath, "Nora! Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?!"

I ruthlessly yanked my arm out of his grasp and stepped forward, walking straight toward the center of the stage. The burgundy train of my dress drifted behind me like a roaring inferno, swearing to burn everything down to ashes.

Desmond frowned, standing up to instinctively shield Valerie behind him. He looked at me, his gaze laced with scrutiny and intense displeasure. "What is the meaning of this?"

The moment Valerie recognized me, the color drained from her face, leaving her ashy white. She clutched Desmond's sleeve, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "Desmond, she... she's probably drunk! Get security to take her out..."

"I'm perfectly sober, Valerie." I walked directly up to the microphone, letting my icy gaze sweep the room before finally landing on Desmond's clueless face.

"Desmond, before you slip that ring onto the finger of your 'pure angel', I believe that as her soon-to-be fiancé, you have the right to know exactly what kind of severe psychological maneuvering she had to do last night to finally accept your proposal."

I pulled a miniature remote control from my clutch. It was the override port for the hall's media control system I had personally synced before leaving the house.

I aimed it right at the massive LED screen behind the stage, which was originally set to play a romantic montage of the couple.

"Nora! Stop—!" Carter roared in total desperation from the floor, throwing caution to the wind as he recklessly tried to rush the stage to stop me.

I looked at his hypocritical face, now twisted in pure terror, and a razor-sharp smile curled on my lips.

Without a second of hesitation, I hit play.