Crowned In Revenge :The Diamond Boss

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮 The Deparker mansion gleamed like it had been polished for royalty. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light across the marble floors, their glow bouncing off the champagne flutes lined neatly on silver trays. Laughter and polite conversation drifted through the air, weaving into the melody from the live string quartet in the corner. Tonight was not just another night in the Deparker household—it was Charmaine’s twenty-fourth birthday. A celebration fit for the beloved daughter of a once-great family name. Only… Charmaine knew better. Standing near the grand staircase, she adjusted the soft folds of her lavender silk gown, the fabric cool against her skin. A bouquet of deep red roses rested in her arms—twenty-four of them, tied with a white ribbon. They had arrived earlier that afternoon, no card, no name, only the scent of something intoxicating and unfamiliar. Everyone assumed they were from Jayson Sanders—her fiancé, the man her father adored. But Charmaine had been engaged to him long enough to know that Jayson never gave without public attention and never gave without expecting something in Return. Whether she is to make some business analysis for him or meet his clients who are difficult on his behalf. Her eyes swept the glittering ballroom, searching for him. She spotted Jayson easily—dark hair slicked back, smile perfectly in place, a tailored navy suit hugging his frame. He was speaking to Rowan, her stepsister, who leaned toward him in a way that made Charmaine’s stomach churn. Rowan was dressed in an emerald gown that shimmered under the light, the color making her eyes glint like a cat’s in the dark. “Charmaine, darling,” a voice purred at her side. Lily Wills, her stepmother, had a way of appearing without warning. She was elegance wrapped in ice, her diamond necklace resting perfectly against her collarbone. Her smile, painted dark red like a vixen , never reached her eyes. “You’ve barely spoken to your guests,” Lily said gently, though her tone carried the weight of an order. “And Jayson has been asking where of you . Try not to keep him waiting. It is your engagement celebration too, after all.” Charmaine pressed her lips together. “It’s my birthday.” Lily’s painted smile didn’t falter. “And birthdays are about family harmony, aren’t they?” With that, she drifted away, her perfume lingering like a warning. Charmaine turned her gaze back to the crowd. The roses in her hands felt heavier now, the white ribbon like a shadow curling around her wrist. She tried to remember when her birthday stopped feeling like hers. Maybe it was after her mother, Leith Gonaz, died. The Gonaz name had carried its own quiet power in high society—something Lily would never have. She began moving toward Jayson, though each step felt reluctant. As she approached, she caught fragments of his conversation with Rowan. “…would have been better if it were just us,” Rowan was saying softly, her manicured hand brushing against Jayson’s arm. Charmaine’s throat tightened. Jayson noticed her then, his smile brightening as if nothing were amiss. “There you are, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her cheek. His lips were cool, the gesture mechanical. “Happy birthday.” “Thank you,” she replied, her voice sturdy. “Those are beautiful,” Rowan said, nodding toward the roses. “From Jayson?” Charmaine met her stepsister’s gaze. “No card. No name. Could be anyone.” Rowan’s smile was slow, deliberate. “How mysterious.” Before Charmaine could respond, a chime rang through the ballroom—her father, Douglas Deparker, was standing by the grand staircase, a glass of champagne raised in his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice deep and commanding, “I’d like to propose a toast—to my daughter, Charmaine. May this year bring her joy, prosperity, and… a wedding worthy of the Deparker name.” The room erupted in polite applause. Charmaine lifted her glass, the crystal trembling slightly in her grip. She took a sip, the champagne crisp and cold. Across the room, Lily’s eyes were on her, watchful. For a moment, Charmaine felt a strange pull in her chest, as though the air had shifted. She glanced at the balcony overlooking the ballroom, but it was empty—only the velvet drapes swaying gently. Still, a strange sensation lingered… as though someone unseen was watching. She shook it off, telling herself it was just the weight of the evening. As the guests began socializing again, Charmaine excused herself from Jayson and Rowan’s company. She slipped into the quieter east corridor of the mansion, where the light from the chandeliers faded into shadow. The roses were still in her arms, their scent stronger now, almost intoxicating. She found herself brushing her fingertips over the white ribbon again. Something inside her whispered that tonight would not end well the way it began. 👣👣👣👣👣👣