Revenge Is Mine

4: Beautiful Stranger

Chiara Moretti

The reflection that stared back at me was a stranger's. A beautiful, dangerous stranger. The makeup artist had just applied the final dusting of powder. My eyes the only familiar feature were framed in a smoky kohl that made them look sharper and colder. It looks nothing like Chiara Moretti but Viviana Marino.

"Perfetto, Signora Marino," the artist murmured, stepping back to admire her work.

I gave a curt nod and I got dressed. Alessandro Bianchi was waiting for me, he stood as I entered the grand foyer of his palazzo, wearing an expensive tailored tuxedo.

"You look the part, Viviana," he said and my lips twitched.

The drive to the gala was short, and I watched the city lights blur past, my heart drumming against my ribs in the Royce rolls we were both seated on.

"Are you ready?" Mr. Bianchi asked as the car came to a stop.

I nodded but the truth was, my hands were clammy, and my stomach was twisted into a sick knot, I was terrified they would see through the disguise.

The moment the car door was opened by a uniformed attendant, the world exploded in a frenzy of light and sound. Flashes erupted momentarily blinding me, journalist shouted questions but I was used to this life before Marco cut it short for me.

Alessandro's hand was firm on my back guiding me, we walked through the red carpet and finally stepped inside.

The moment we stepped inside, the conversations didn't stop, but the pitch changed. Heads turned, eyes assessing, following our progress. All eyes were on Alessandro Bianchi and then, their eyes slid to me, the murmuring intensified.

"Mr. Bianchi, it's been too long," a portly man with a florid face and a booming voice said, approaching us. "And you have not come alone, you must introduce me to your lovely companion."

"Riccardo. This is Signora Viviana Marino." Alessandro replied.

"Marino?" Riccardo's eyebrows shot up. "The Viviana Marino? Of Marino Vintners and Tech?"

"The one and only," I said smoothly. I offered a hand and he took it.

"A pleasure, Signora. A true pleasure," he stammered.

As he moved away, another man slid into his place and they all tried to introduce themselves to him. Finally, we were led to a prominent table near the center of the grand ballroom, I tilted around until my eyes fell on them.

They were holding court by the champagne fountain, Alesia draped over Marco's arm like a gaudy trophy. She was laughing that high-pitched affected giggle she always used when she wanted something. She wore a garish gold dress, too tight and too bright. Marco looked completely at home, his hand possessively on her waist, his smile broad and smug as he spoke.

The sight of them together, so happy, so carefree made the air rush from my lungs. I couldn't help but remember everything they have done to me, my hands, hidden in the folds of my dress, clenched into fists, my nails digging crescents into my palms. It took every ounce of my self-control not to march over there and tear that smug smile off his face.

"Breathe, Viviana," Alessandro murmurs beside me, "Patience is a weapon, do not hand them yours."

I took a deep shuddering breath and forced my features to relax. I swallowed my pride, my fury, and my grief. I sat down, arranging my dress with grace.

It didn't take long. Vultures are always drawn to a bigger predator, I saw Marco's eyes scan the room, likely looking for his next investor, his next victim. His gaze landed on Alessandro, and a smile graced his face. He whispered something to Alesia, and they began to move towards our table, their smiles plastered on with their steps eager.

"Mr. Bianchi," Marco began, his voice oozing a charm that now sounded utterly reptilian to me. "Marco Mancini. It is a genuine honor, I have been hoping for an opportunity to meet you for months."

Alesia chirped in beside him. "We are such admirers of your work, your... influence. My name is Alesia Moretti."

Alessandro regarded them with an air of detached amusement. "Mr. Mancini, Miss Moretti. I am sure you are." He gestured vaguely at the room. "However, this is hardly the place to talk about business, is it?"

Marco's face fell for a fraction of a second before he recovered. "Of course, of course! You're absolutely right. We wouldn't dream of it." He hesitated, clearly desperate not to lose the opportunity. "Perhaps we could visit your company sometime next week?"

"Perhaps," Alessandro said noncommittally, but then he did something unexpected, he gestured to the two empty chairs at our table. "But since you are here, please, join us."

Marco's delight was pathetic. He practically beamed as he pulled out a chair for Alesia, then one for himself. They settled in, two hungry jackals invited to the lion's table, and it was only then that Marco's gaze finally truly fell on me.

His practiced smile faltered. His eyes widened slightly as he took me in, the way a man dying of thirst might look at an oasis. His gaze moved from my eyes, to my lips, down the line of my neck to the curve of my dress. It was the same look he used to give me, the one I once thought was love. Now I knew it for what it was, assessment, calculation, and greed.

"Forgive my manners," he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Mr. Bianchi, you haven't introduced us to your... colleague. And who is this beautiful woman?"

I met his gaze directly, letting a small, enigmatic smile play on my lips."Viviana Marino," I said.

"Viviana Marino," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. He leaned forward slightly, his focus entirely on me now, Alesia completely forgotten at his side. "I've read about your work in fusion technology, it's fascinating. I've always been interested in women who understand technology. Women with vision."

The blatant flattery was so predictable, I let out a soft laugh, I tilted my head, my gaze flicking meaningfully towards Alesia. "Is that so? You should probably focus on your woman, then. I'm sure she has many... visions."

Marco's smile didn't waver, but Alesia's did. I saw the flicker of shock and anger in her eyes before she smoothed it over with a brittle smile of her own.

Marco just chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, Alesia," he said, "Alesia is just a business partner. A valuable one, of course but our relationship is purely professional."

The shock on Alesia's face was no longer hidden. Her jaw went slack, her eyes wide with disbelief and hurt, the woman who had helped him steal my life, who had stood by his side for two years, was discarded in a single sentence for a chance with a newer, shinier prize. She recovered quickly, forcing another tight smile.

"How interesting," I murmured, taking a slow sip of my champagne.

Marco oblivious or indifferent to the woman he'd just publicly humiliated pressed on. "So, Viviana, how is it that you know Mr. Bianchi? Business, I presume?"

"You could say that," I replied vaguely. "When I arrived in Italy, his was the first name I came to know. A man of his reputation is hard to miss."

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, with Marco trying desperately to engage me and Alessandro watching the entire exchange, I was tired of talking to him, it was becoming suffocating.

"If you'll excuse me," I said, rising gracefully from my chair. "I need a moment."

I walked away from the table without a backward glance, and I made my way through the throng of people to the ladies' restroom.

I pressed my forehead against the wall and finally let out the breath I'd been holding. My hands were trembling, and Marco hadn't changed one bit. A prettier face, a bigger bank account, and he was ready to discard Alesia without a second thought, just as he had discarded me. The man's loyalty extended only as far as his own ambition.

A bitter smile touched my lips. He was so utterly, transparently predictable and that predictability was going to be his ruin. My revenge wouldn't just be about taking back my money, it would be about destroying them from the inside out, using their own greed and disloyalty as the tools of their destruction.

I splashed cold water on my wrists, looked at my reflection embracing Viviana with everything in me, and stepped back out into the gala. I had no intention of returning to the table, I had accomplished what I came here to do. I had been seen, and I had planted the seed.

I began walking towards the exit, when I heard my name. "Viviana, wait."

I turned and it was Marco, hurrying to catch up to me, Alesia was nowhere in sight.

He stopped in front of me, a charming, apologetic smile on his face. "Leaving so soon? The night is still young."

"I have an early start tomorrow," I said coolly.

"Of course. A woman like you is always busy," he said, his eyes doing another sweep of my form. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and produced a sleek, black business card. He held it out to me. "I meant what I said, I'm very interested in your work. I think there could be a... synergy between our interests. Call me and we can discuss it over dinner."

I took the card from his fingers, my touch deliberately light and fleeting.

"And besides," he added, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping, "you are a truly beautiful woman." He gave me a quick, confident wink and then turned and walked away.

I stood there for a moment, a slow, genuine smirk spread across my face, and he had no idea he was carefully meticulously digging his own grave and I was going to enjoy every second of watching him do it.