Chapter 63 THE PLAN

Chapter 63 THE PLAN
Vivienne’s POV

“Absolutely not,” I said into the phone, pacing slowly across my suite. “The gala must be perfect. I don’t care what it costs. Spare no expense.”

The event coordinator on the other end laughed nervously. “Of course, Lady Vivienne. Mooncrest standards are already—”

“Not Mooncrest standards,” I cut in smoothly. “Mine.”

Silence.

Then, careful: “Understood.”

I stopped by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. “And ensure the media is present. All of them. I want full coverage—photographers, reporters, every gossip outlet in the territory.”

There was a pause. “You want… paparazzi?”

“I want documentation,” I corrected. “Every moment. Every angle. No gaps.”

A beat. “It will be arranged.”

“Good.” I turned back into the room, my heels clicking softly against the floor. “Now, seating arrangements.”

“Yes, my lady. We were thinking—”

“I’ll tell you what you’ll be thinking,” I said lightly, smiling. “The rogue will be seated at the lowest table.”

A pause.

“Lowest… as in—”

“As far from the alpha table as possible,” I clarified. “Back corner. Poor lighting. Minimal attention.”

“I see.”

“Make it obvious,” I added, my voice softening into something colder. “I want every guest to look at her and understand immediately that she does not belong.”

The coordinator hesitated. “And if the alpha objects?”

“He won’t,” I said simply.

Another pause, longer this time. “Very well.”

“And the rest of the seating,” I continued, moving to the table and picking up a pen, tapping it absently against my palm. “Place high-ranking pack leaders and council representatives near the front. I want their reactions captured clearly.”

“For the media.”

“Yes.”

“What about… her attire?” the coordinator asked cautiously.

My lips curved.

“I’ll handle that personally.”

“Of course.”

“Send me the final layout by morning,” I said. “I’ll review and make adjustments.”

“It will be done.”

I ended the call without another word.

For a moment, I stood there, then I let out a soft breath, the satisfaction settling in.

Everything was falling into place.

I picked up my phone again and dialed a different number.

It rang twice before someone answered. “Golden Valley Boutique.”

“Good evening,” I said smoothly. “I need a gown.”

“Of course, my lady. For yourself or—”

“For a guest.”

A brief pause. “What style are you looking for?”

I leaned back against the table, crossing one leg over the other. “Something elegant. Refined. But…” I let the word linger.

“But?” the woman prompted.

“For a difficult figure.”

Another pause. “I see.”

“Size large,” I continued. “Accommodating late pregnancy.”

The silence on the other end stretched just a fraction too long.

“Understood,” she said finally.

“But here’s the important part,” I added, my tone light. “I want it to be… unflattering.”

There was a small intake of breath. “Unflattering?”

“Yes. Tight in the wrong places. Loose in others. The cut should look like it almost fits—but doesn’t.”

“That’s… unconventional.”

“I’m not asking for conventional,” I replied calmly.

The woman hesitated again. “Lady Vivienne, our boutique prides itself on enhancing—”

“Double the price,” I said.

Silence.

Then, quieter: “Double?”

“Yes. For discretion and compliance.”

A beat.

“It will be done.”

“Excellent,” I said, smiling. “Have it delivered to me directly. I’ll oversee final adjustments.”

“Yes, my lady.”

I ended the call and set the phone down, my smile lingering.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Enter.”

Marcus stepped in without waiting, his presence filling the room with that same controlled authority he carried everywhere.

“You’re busy,” he noted, glancing briefly at the phone in my hand.

“Planning,” I corrected, moving to pour myself a glass of wine. “The gala won’t organize itself.”

He watched me for a moment before stepping further inside. “It will serve our purposes?”

I handed him a glass, my smile widening slightly. “Better than that.”

He raised a brow.

“When I’m done,” I continued, taking a slow sip, “the rogue will be so thoroughly humiliated that she’ll beg for exile just to escape the shame.”

Marcus’s expression didn’t change, but I saw the approval in his eyes.

“And the media?” he asked.

“Oh, they’ll have a field day,” I said lightly. “Photos, videos, commentary. By morning, every pack in the territory will know exactly what she is.”

“A disgrace.”

“Yes,” I said simply.

He took a sip of his drink. “And no pack will accept her after.”

“Exactly,” I replied. “We won’t even need to force her out. She’ll have nowhere to go.”

Marcus nodded slowly. “Efficient.”

I smiled. “I prefer clean solutions.”

His gaze sharpened slightly. “And Caden?”

Ah.

There it was.

I set my glass down, my fingers brushing lightly against the stem. “Caden will be exactly where he needs to be.”

“And that is?”

“At my side,” I said.

Marcus watched me carefully.

“The perfect alpha,” I continued, my voice smooth. “Standing beside his perfect match. Smiling for the cameras, greeting guests, reinforcing exactly what everyone expects to see.”

“And the rogue?”

“Will be in the background,” I said. “Out of place. Out of her depth.”

Marcus’s lips twitched slightly. “You’re confident he’ll play his part.”

“He will,” I said, meeting his gaze. “He doesn’t have a choice.”

A beat passed.

“And if he hesitates?” Marcus asked.

I tilted my head slightly. “Then the contrast becomes even more obvious. Either way, we win.”

He considered that, then nodded once. “Good.”

I picked up my phone again as he turned slightly toward the door.

“There’s one more thing,” I said casually.

He paused. “Yes?”

“I’ve made additional arrangements,” I added, my tone almost absent as I scrolled through my contacts.

His gaze sharpened again. “What kind of arrangements?”

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I selected a number and typed quickly.

Gala is set. Ensure the rogue has an “accident” during the event. Make it public. Make it memorable.

I hit send.

Marcus watched me, his expression unreadable. “Define ‘accident.’”

My lips curved faintly. “Something unfortunate. Something that draws attention.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re escalating.”

“I’m ensuring results,” I corrected.

A vibration buzzed in my hand.

I glanced down at the screen.

Payment first.

Of course.

Without hesitation, I opened the transfer app and input the amount. A generous sum. Enough to guarantee enthusiasm.

I pressed confirm.

A second later, another message appeared.

Understood.

I locked the phone and looked back up.

Marcus studied me for a long moment. “You’re certain this won’t backfire?”

I smiled.

“No,” I said softly. “I’m certain it will be unforgettable.”

He held my gaze, then gave a short nod. “See that it is.”

He turned and left the room without another word.