Chapter Ten
1546 Words
The Grand Luxe Hotel glittered beneath the moonlight and the flash of cameras.
Sophia adjusted the sleeve of Catalina’s black gown as they walked up the red carpet, a pretentious addition to what was supposed to be a fundraising event, murmuring in a low tone, “The place is packed with vultures. Ready?”
“No, but we can't turn back now.”
Sophia grinned. “Good. Just stay out of trouble, meet Mrs Okoye, and get out. Don’t do anything else.”
Catalina rolled her eyes softly, her shoulders pressed together. ‘‘Yes, Mom.’’
The whispers began as they stepped into the ballroom.
“She is as shameless as the news claims.”
“Who wouldn’t be with the backing of Rinaldi?”
Catalina walked past the society gossips, a practiced smile on her face. Waiters moved through the crowd carrying champagne trays while a string quartet played near the stage.
Sophia leaned closer. “They couldn’t hold it in even if they tried. Remember the rules: if you get into a fight, the company will disown you.’’
Catalina laughed and nodded, picking up a champagne flute from a passing server as they made their way to the center of the room and took their seats just as the fundraiser began in earnest. She scanned the room for the woman she sought after but saw no signs of the famed Nigerian.
Then the donation announcements began.
Several corporations pledged funding toward international housing initiatives. Applause followed each announcement politely.
Then the host smiled brightly toward Catalina’s table.
“And finally, Giordano Estates has pledged ten million dollars toward urban redevelopment programs across underserved immigrant communities in New York.”
A pin drop could be heard in the room. She turned to Sophia, who blinked rapidly beside her.
“I specifically said not to do anything attention-grabbing,” she whispered through gritted teeth.
Catalina stood slowly, releasing her arm from her assistant’s. ‘‘If we don’t grab attention, how will we meet our host?’’
Cameras flashed, and she smiled back. “Giordano Estates believes everyone deserves a home they can be proud of. It is a privilege to always give back to our community in this little way.”
Applause slowly filled the room, the gossips showing their awe for the woman they wrote off.
As she returned to her seat, Sophia leaned toward her. “You’re just full of trouble, aren’t you?”
Catalina took a sip of champagne. “The press already thinks I’m an evil ex-wife. Might as well become a generous bitch.”
Sophia choked on her drink. ‘‘Touche.’’
A woman approached their table as the dinner session began. “Ms Giordano?”
Catalina looked up.
The woman wore a tailored cream suit and carried herself with a mirror of Sophia’s sharp professional confidence. An Executive Assistant true and true.
“Mrs. Okoye would like a private word with you.”
Sophia’s eyebrows shot upward and took the woman in. Catalina tugged on her elbow. “Lead the way.”
They crossed through the ballroom toward a quieter private lounge overlooking the city skyline.
Margaret Okoye stood near the windows. She was a striking woman, dark skin glowing beneath soft chandelier light. Silver streaks threaded through her coiled hair. Her red dress was simple compared to the excessive gowns downstairs, but somehow she carried more authority than half the room combined.
She turned as Catalina entered, gesturing to her assistant to give them the room.
“So,” she said simply. “You’re the girl causing Wall Street indigestion.”
Catalina smiled despite herself.
“Better indigestion than a stock crash.”
“True.” Margaret gestured toward the seating area. “Sit.”
Catalina slid into the velvet cushion, and Margaret spoke up. “I know you want my shares, Catalina. I was planning to sell them off eventually, so tell me, what’s in it for me to sell to you?”
Catalina respected that. She picked her response. “A better long-term investment. Marcus is bleeding the company dry trying to maintain appearances. You get the option to have a stake in Giordano Estates, a project that speaks to what your organization does every day.”
Margaret’s mouth curved slightly. “And you are not worried about the news going round about your company?”
Catalina leaned back slightly. “Are you?”
“You don’t get to where I am today by engaging in petty rumors,” Margaret replied. “I came to this country forty years ago with one suitcase and exactly fifty dollars. Shunned all the rumors to build my name. Rumors don’t impress me. I care more about repeatable patterns. Marcus is going the way of his father, a man consumed by his sense of self, reckless and desperate. Not the person I want my money in the long term.’’
Catalina stayed mum.
“And whatever game you’re playing, Giordano,” Margaret added, “I like it. So, it’s time to move my horses.’’
“What are your terms?” Catalina asked.
Margaret smiled and replied. “I will transfer my shares to you for equity in the smart homes project. I’ve reviewed the proposal.” Her eyes softened. “Do you know how many Nigerian immigrants live cramped inside apartments they can barely afford in this city? Students turned residents who are almost homeless?”
Catalina shook her head.
“More than you can count,” Margaret said quietly. “Where we come from, we are taught to adapt to inhumane conditions, but,” She held Catalina’s gaze. “I want this project to do for the next Margaret what I didn’t get: a home of her own to start afresh.’’
Catalina replied. “You have my word.”
Margaret studied her for a brief flash. “My assistant will contact your legal team tomorrow. Assuming you survive tonight’s circus, we are now partners.”
“Thank you.”
Margaret waved her off. “Don’t thank me yet. If this fails, I’ll pretend we never met.”
Catalina left the lounge feeling lighter than she had in weeks. Hope fluttered in her chest, until she heard an ear-scratching shrill she hoped to never hear again.
“Well, well, well,” the voice drawled. “Look what crawled out of the gutters.”
Catalina rolled her eyes and turned to face the woman.
Gianna stood beside the champagne tower, dripping in silver sequins and diamonds that definitely had not been purchased from her bank account.
Marcus stood nearby, speaking with investors. Always the attentive cheater.
Gianna crossed her arms and continued. “I’m honestly surprised you’re still showing your face in public after all the embarrassing press lately. Dropping pants for a Billionaire must have its perks.”
A small crowd was starting to form around them, nosy busybodies. Catalina regarded the woman whom she once shared the deepest secret of her life with for a split second, her right arm reaching for a champagne glass from a passing waiter, the perfect smile plastered on her face as she threw the golden drink on Gianna’s face.
A collective gasp rang out across the room, and she smiled brighter for the renewed camera frenzy, as the champagne dripped down Gianna’s increasingly red face.
“Oh my God,” Sophia whispered somewhere in the crowd.
“You f*****g psycho!” Gianna shrieked, lunging at Catalina’s face.
Marcus moved instantly, grabbing Gianna’s arm, his eyes scanning the room.
“I didn’t bring you here to cause a scene,” he hissed.
Gianna spun toward Marcus, a thin visible vein stretching across her forehead. “She poured champagne on me! She is the one causing a scene!”
Catalina barked out a cold laugh. “You should keep a leash on your rabid dog when you bring her out in public, Mr. DeLuca. For mistresses, appearance is everything, don’t you think?’’
The remark had the desired effect. Gianna’s face twisted with rage; pulling her hand free from Marcus’, she walked to Catalina. ‘‘Who the f**k are you calling a mistress, you b***h?’’
Catalina stared at her down in disdain. ‘‘After divorcing him over three years ago, he still hasn’t sealed the deal,’’ she eyed Marcus surreptitiously. ‘‘Someone needs to do the reality check, bestie. Once a mistress, forever a mistress.’’
Gianna raised her hand fast, but Catalina caught the member before it could complete its descent.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
The room fell silent as the sound of flesh hitting flesh thrice registered on everyone’s faces.
Ignoring the looks across the room, she held Gianna’s chin between her fingers and leaned in to whisper. ‘‘I will not repeat myself, Gianna; don’t dare to cross me. It will end badly for you. You only have Marcus; I have more than enough power to destroy a lowlife like you. You don’t want my attention, I can assure you.’’
“I was under the impression this was a fundraiser. Not a bar fight.”
Releasing Gianna, Catalina turned in surprise to the voice.
Julian Rinaldi stood behind her, one arm in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit, the other restraining a very angry Marcus.
- Writer
