Chapter 2: The Red Dress
4216 Words
The boutique on the corner of 5th was the kind of place I used to walk past with my head down. In my past life, I thought high fashion was for people with different DNA. But today, I walked in like I owned the sidewalk. I had Darlington’s black card in my purse. It felt heavy. It felt like power.
"I need the dress from the window," I told the clerk, Sophie.
But suprisingly, she looked me up and down. I was still wearing my dusty archive clothes. She started to open her mouth to say something dismissive, so bad that she threatned to call the corps on me if i don’t step out of the boutique. I felt so embarassed, that i could barely look her in the face. One of the staffs tried to calm the whole situation, telling me to ignore her and focus on why i came over. Right there, I pulled the black card out, and that brought shock to their faces. I could sense Sophie’s expression too. Her expression changed instantly.
"Of course, Miss. Right this way." said the other
The dress was blood-red silk. It had a high slit and a back that dipped low. When I put it on, the woman in the mirror didn't look like a victim. She looked like a warning.
By eight o’clock, I was standing in the foyer of the Grand Plaza Hotel. The air was thick with the smell of expensive lilies and perfume. I waited by the gold-trimmed doors, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Then I saw him. Maurice.
He was standing near the bar, looking exactly the way he did in my nightmares. He was wearing a tuxedo, laughing at something Stacy said. Stacy was wearing a pale pink dress that made her look innocent. It was a lie. She was the one who had helped him forge my signature on the life insurance papers.
I felt a wave of nausea, followed by a cold, sharp anger. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run over and slap the drink out of his hand.
Instead, I felt a firm hand on the small of my back.
"Keep your chin up," Darlington whispered in my ear.
He looked incredible. He was in a custom black tux that made him look like a king among peasants. He didn't look at the crowd. He only looked at me.
"Are you ready to blow their world apart?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
We walked into the ballroom together. The room went quiet. It was like a wave of silence followed us. People whispered behind their hands. Darlington never brought dates to these things. He certainly never brought women who looked like they were made of fire.
We walked straight toward the bar. Straight toward Maurice.
Maurice saw us coming. He froze. His glass stopped halfway to his mouth. He looked at me, then at Darlington, then back at me. His eyes were wide with confusion. He had spent his whole afternoon waiting for me at the archives. He probably thought I’d been kidnapped or killed.
"Darlington," Maurice said, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I decided I needed a night out," Darlington said, his voice smooth and dangerous. "I believe you know my fiancée, Vivian?"
The silence that followed was beautiful. Stacy dropped her clutch. It hit the floor with a loud thud.
"Fiancée?"
Maurice stammered. "Vivian? But... you work in a basement. You... how?"
I stepped forward, a small, polite smile on my face. I reached out and tucked a stray hair behind Stacy’s ear. She flinched.
"Oh, Maurice," I said. "I decided it was time to come out of the dark. Darlington was kind enough to show me that I was wasting my time with people who didn't appreciate me."
I looked at Stacy. "Nice dress, Stacy. Pink really suits you. It makes you look so... harmless."
Stacy’s face went pale. She knew. She didn't know how I knew, but she could see the change in my eyes. The girl who used to share her lunch and her secrets was gone.
"We have a table to get to," Darlington said, dismissing them like they were servants. "Enjoy your night, Maurice. I hear the salmon is excellent. Almost as good as the company."
As we walked away, I could feel Maurice’s eyes burning into my back. I knew what he was thinking. He was wondering how he had lost control. He was wondering how the mouse had turned into a lioness overnight.
We sat at the head table, right next to the stage.
Throughout the night, people came up to congratulate us. I played the part of the devoted fiancée perfectly. I laughed at Darlington’s jokes. I leaned my head on his shoulder. I made sure every camera in the room caught a glimpse of the giant diamond on my finger.
But inside, I was calculating. I knew that tomorrow, Maurice would try to contact me. He would try to apologize. He would try to win me back so he could get close to Darlington's money.
"You're doing well," Darlington said, leaning in close so only I could hear. "But you're shaking."
"I'm just cold," I lied.
"No, you're not," he said. He took my hand under the table and squeezed it. His grip was steady. "You're angry. Use it. Don't let it consume you, or you'll make a mistake."
"I won't make a mistake," I said. "I've already made all the mistakes I'm allowed for one lifetime.”
After dinner, the music started. Darlington led me to the dance floor. He held me closer than he needed to. I could smell his mint and something spicy. For a second, I forgot about the revenge, I forgot about the hospital room and the rain. I just felt safe.
"Why are you really doing this?" I asked him as we moved to the music. "You could have any woman in this room. Why help a girl from the archives?"
Darlington looked down at me. For a moment, the mask slipped. "Because Maurice is a cancer on this city. He’s been stealing from my family's smaller firms for years. I could never prove it because he’s good at hiding his tracks. But you... you have something he wants. And you have something I need."
"Information," I said.
"And guts," he added. "Most people would have run if they were in your shoes. You walked into my office and demanded a seat at the table. I like that."
The song ended, and the lights dimmed for the charity auction. Maurice was sitting three tables away, watching us. He looked like he wanted to jump across the room and grab me.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer said. "Our next item is a rare product donated by the Thorne estate."
I froze. The Thorne estate? Those products were supposed to be private, so private that no one was to ever find out about them. They were supposed to be in a vault until I turned thirty.
I looked at Maurice. He was smiling. He had intentionally put them up for auction to show he had so much control over my family’s legacy. He was trying to bait me.
"The bidding starts at fifty thousand," the announcer said.
"One hundred thousand," Maurice shouted, raising his paddle. He looked at me with a smirk. He wanted to buy my own family's history, my family’s legacy all over to himself just to rub it in my face.
"Two hundred thousand," a voice said next to me.
It was Darlington. He didn't even look at the stage. He kept his eyes on Maurice.
"Five hundred thousand," Maurice snapped. He was getting angry now. His pride was on the line.
"One million," Darlington said, his voice calm.
The room gasped. A million dollars for a set of emeralds that were worth maybe half that. Maurice turned purple. He looked like he wanted to scream. He looked at Stacy, who was shaking her head, telling him to stop. They didn't have that kind of cash. Not yet.
"Going once, going twice..."
"Two million!" Maurice yelled.
The room went silent. Even the announcer looked shocked. Maurice stood up, looking triumphant. He thought he had won. He thought he had outspent the billionaire.
Darlington leaned back in his chair and smiled. He didn't raise his paddle.
"Sold to Mr. Maurice for two million dollars," the announcer said.
Maurice’s smile slowly faded. He realized what had happened. He had just spent two million dollars he didn't have on what he technically "owned" through his lies. He had fallen right into the trap.
"He’s broke, Vivian," Darlington whispered. "He just signed a check he can't cash. By tomorrow morning, the bank will be calling him. And I'll be the one they call to buy his debt."
I looked at Maurice, who was now frantically talking to Stacy. They looked panicked.
I felt a cold sense of satisfaction. It was the first blow, and it was a heavy one.
"Let's go," Darlington said, standing up. "I think we’ve seen enough."
As we walked out, we passed Maurice. He grabbed my arm. His grip was tight, his face twisted with rage.
"Vivian, what the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "You're coming with me. Now."
I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. I looked at his hand on my arm, then I looked him in the eye.
"Get your hands off me, Maurice," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Or I'll have Clinton show you what happens to people who touch what belongs to Darlington."
Darlington stepped forward, his eyes turning to ice. Maurice let go like he’d been burned.
"We're leaving," I said.
We walked out into the cool night air. The valet brought the car around. As I climbed into the passenger seat, I looked at the hotel one last time.
The war had started. And for the first time in two lives, I was winning. Maurice felt broken at my reaction, I could see the pain in his eyes. As we drove off from the event, I suddenly began to hear someone shout my name
Vivian…. Vivian…. Vivian…
I looked back to see who it was, surprisingly it was Maurice. He was shouting and running right behind the car as we drove off.
- Writer
