Chapter 10 - The Society Gala
Adrian did not hide. To hide, he explained, was to show weakness to wolves.
Instead, three days after the threat, he declared that we would attend the annual Chicago Symphony Autumn Gala at the Palmer House Hilton. It was the premier society event of the year—attended by politicians, judges, business magnates, and the highest echelon of the city's elite.
"You don't have to do this if you're afraid," Adrian had told me as a team of high-end stylists finished my hair and makeup in the penthouse suite.
I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror.
I was wearing a custom emerald-green silk velvet gown that hugged my baby bump with regal elegance. A delicate diamond choker glittered at my throat, gifted by Adrian earlier that afternoon. My hair was swept into an intricate updo, accentuating my cheekbones. I didn't look like the poor, terrified girl from the dairy aisle.
I looked like a queen.
"I won't cower in a golden cage, Adrian," I told him, turning to meet his gaze. "If Salvatore Bellandi thinks he can terrify me into submission, he doesn't know what a mother will do for her child."
A slow, proud smile spread across Adrian’s face. He looked breathtaking in a custom black tuxedo, looking every bit the sovereign ruler of the city.
When we arrived at the Palmer House, the paparazzi flashes were blinding. Dozens of cameras went off simultaneously as Adrian escorted me down the velvet carpet. He kept his hand firmly on the small of my back, guiding me through the sea of socialites whose whispers followed us like an ocean breeze.
*“Is that Moretti? Who is she?”*
*“My God, look at her dress... is she pregnant?”*
*“Nathan Vance was claiming she was a beggar last week!”*
Across the grand ballroom, standing near the marble columns, was Nathan.
He was dressed in a suit that was visibly rumpled, holding a cheap glass of domestic beer. His fiancée was nowhere to be seen, and the other businessmen were deliberately keeping a wide berth from him. His family’s firm was crumbling, and everyone knew it.
When Nathan’s eyes found mine, his face contorted in disbelief and raw humiliation.
During the intermission, while Adrian stepped aside to speak with a sitting state senator, I walked toward the private terrace for some fresh air.
"Claire."
I spun around. Nathan stepped out from behind a heavy velvet curtain, his eyes bloodshot, reeking of alcohol.
"Nathan," I said coldly, stepping back toward the ballroom doors. "You shouldn't be within a mile of me."
"He ruined me, Claire!" Nathan hissed, stumbling slightly. "My father had a heart attack! The bank seized my condo! Why? Because of a stupid joke in a grocery store?!"
"It wasn't a joke, Nathan. It was your true nature," I said, my voice icy. "Now step aside before Adrian sees you."
Nathan laughed bitterly, a hysterical, cracked sound. "Adrian? You think he loves you? You think this was an accident?"
I paused, frowning. "What are you talking about?"
May you like
Nathan leaned in, whispering with spiteful triumph: "I didn't run into you at that grocery store by chance, Claire. I was paid fifty thousand dollars by Salvatore Bellandi to humiliate you publicly and flush Adrian out into the open. You were the bait from the very beginning!"
***
