Chapter 5 - The Grand Table
The VIP table sat on a raised dais beneath the towering crystal chandelier, offering a panoramic view of the entire ballroom. Every head at neighboring tables turned as Nico Rossi guided Luna up the velvet-carpeted steps, pulling out the central chair with a courtly grace that belonged to another century.
Luna seated herself smoothly, letting the heavy silk of her crimson gown pool around the chair like a victory flag.
Nico took his seat beside her, leaning in slightly so his shoulder brushed hers. He poured two glasses of crystal-clear sparkling water, sliding one across the white tablecloth toward her. "You caused quite a stir walking through those doors, Miss Vane. I believe half the board members spilled their champagne."
"Good," Luna said, taking a delicate sip of the water. "Stagnant water needs a storm every now and then to keep it from smelling."
Nico chuckled—a low, resonant sound that vibrated with genuine amusement. "A storm. I like that. When you audited Rossi Global’s tax structures three months ago, I told my associates that you had the sharpest mind in forensic accounting I’d seen in a decade. I didn't realize you also possessed the theatrical flair of a grandmaster."
"Desperate times call for dramatic staging," Luna replied smoothly, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead, where Liam and Amber were stranded near the pillar like shipwreck survivors clinging to driftwood.
Across the table, Valentina Rossi seated herself with regal poise, her sharp eyes darting between Nico and Luna. A slow, knowing smile curved Valentina’s lips.
"Nico," Valentina said, her voice cutting through the ambient hum of the room. "You never told me you were courting the brilliant mind behind the Vane Audit."
"I wasn't, Valentina," Nico replied smoothly, turning his gaze toward his ex-wife with an expression of polite detachment. "At least, not until tonight. Sometimes, brilliant minds require a little... encouragement to cross the threshold."
"Well," Valentina said, raising her champagne flute toward Luna in a silent toast. "I must say, the aesthetic improvement at this table is staggering. Much better than the usual roster of sycophants and opportunists."
From across the ballroom, Liam finally found his footing and began dragging Amber behind him through the crowd. They were marching straight toward the dais, their faces flushed with a mixture of panic, rage, and desperate humiliation. Every socialite in their path parted instantly, whispering behind gloved hands and pointing smartphones discreetly.
Luna watched them approach in the peripheral vision of her eye. Her pulse didn't quicken; her breath didn't hitch. The ice in her veins remained perfectly frozen.
"Nico," Liam’s voice cracked as he reached the edge of the dais, his hands gripping the brass railing of the stairs. "What is the meaning of this? What is she doing sitting next to you?"
The music in the ballroom seemed to fade into the background. The entire hall held its collective breath, hundreds of eyes locking onto the family drama unfolding beneath the crystal lights.
Nico didn't turn around immediately. He took another slow sip of his water, set the glass down with a soft clink, and then turned his head slowly to look down at his son.
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The look in Nico’s eyes wasn't anger. It was something infinitely worse.
It was absolute, chilling indifference.
