Chapter 71 THE GALA PART 2
Camille stumbled through the doors, her dress askew, her hair falling out of its elaborate updo. She was clearly drunk, swaying on her heels as she scanned the crowd.
When her eyes landed on Alexander, her face twisted into something ugly. She was clearly about to stir up trouble.
"There you are!" She pointed at him, her voice loud enough to echo off the marble. "There's the man of my dreams!"
The entire lobby went silent. Even the string quartet in the corner stopped playing.
"Camille," Alexander started forward. "You need to leave."
"I need to leave?" Camille laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "I'm not the one who brought his whore to a public event!"
She was pointing at Vivienne now.
Victoria stepped forward. "Camille, dear. You're making a scene. You need to put a stop to this now."
"Oh, now you care about scenes?" Camille whirled toward Victoria. "You're the one who told me to come! You said I should fight for him!"
Victoria's face went rigid. "Not like this. You're clearly intoxicated and confused."
Security guards were already moving toward Camille, but she was not done.
"That's her, isn't it?" Camille's eyes were wild, looking between Vivienne and Victoria. "That's the woman you've been obsessed with! The nobody! The reason you won't take me back!"
"Miss, you need to come with us," one of the security guards said, taking her arm.
Camille shook him off. "Do you know who I am? My family could buy this hotel! You can't touch me!"
But they could, and they did. Two guards took her arms and started walking her back toward the exit.
"You'll regret this, Alexander!" Camille screamed as they dragged her away. "My father will destroy you! Your company! Everything!"
The doors closed behind her, cutting off her voice.
No one moved at first or spoke.
Then slowly, conversation started up again. Quieter at first, then building back to its previous volume. But everyone was glancing at Alexander and Vivienne. And they were whispering.
Victoria's face was red with rage. "Alexander, we need to talk. Now."
"Not now, Mother."
"Yes, now. This is unacceptable. Do you have any idea what you've just..."
"I said not now." Alexander's voice was firm but pleading. "Please. I'm just trying to get through tonight."
Victoria's mouth pressed into a thin line. She looked like she might argue. But instead she turned on her heel and walked away.
Alexander watched her go, then turned to Vivienne. "I'm sorry you had to see that."
"It's not your fault."
But it kind of was. And they both knew it.
"Ms. Cross!" Another voice called from behind.
Vivienne turned to find Isabella walking toward them, a man in a tux on her arm. She wore a gold dress that showed more skin than fabric and a smile that promised trouble.
"Isabella," Alexander said, his voice flat. "I didn't realize you were invited."
"James brought me as his plus-one." She gestured to the man beside her, who Vivienne vaguely recognized as one of the investors. "I couldn't miss the big night. Especially after all my hard work on the project."
"You quit," Alexander reminded her.
"Creative differences." Isabella's eyes traveled over Vivienne's dress. "That's quite a bold look, Ms. Cross. Green really isn't your color, though. It makes you look a bit washed out."
"I like it," Vivienne said.
"Well, you would." Isabella laughed. "So tell me, are you nervous? About speaking in front of all these people? About being the face of such a massive project? That must be a lot of pressure for someone with your limited experience."
"I'm managing."
"That's good. Because one wrong word up there and you could ruin everything Alexander has built. No pressure, though." Isabella's smile was sharp. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"Isabella," the man beside her said, tugging her arm. "Come on. Let's find our table."
Isabella let herself be pulled away, but not before throwing one more look back at Vivienne. A look that said this was not over.
Alexander ran his hand through his hair, disturbing the perfect styling. "This is already a disaster and the program has not even started yet."
Vivienne could not argue with that.
"Drinks are being served in the ballroom," someone announced. "Please make your way to your assigned tables."
The crowd started moving, flowing toward the massive doors that led to the ballroom proper.
Vivienne caught a glimpse of what lay beyond. Round tables covered in white linens. Elaborate centerpieces. A stage at the far end with a podium and screens.
In less than an hour, she would have to stand in front of all these people and talk about Athena. About survival. About fighting for what is yours.
While Victoria Hunt sat watching, piecing together exactly who she was.
While Isabella waited for her to fail.
While cameras recorded every word.
"Ready?" Alexander asked.
Vivienne looked at him.
"No," she said honestly. "But let's do this anyway."
They walked into the ballroom together, and Vivienne tried not to feel like she was walking toward her own execution.