Chapter 245

Bianca Semona stormed up the staircase with a gaggle of socialites, her stilettos hammering against the marble steps like gunfire.

"Listen!" She jabbed a manicured finger at the locked door, triumph twisting her features. "That bitch Vivian is inside."

The unmistakable sounds of intimacy seeped through the wood, staining the cheeks of sheltered debutantes crimson.

"Oh my god, how shameless—"

"I always knew she was trash!" Bianca shrieked. "Playing the ice queen while secretly—"

A disturbance rippled through the crowd at the far end of the hallway.

The sea of bodies parted instinctively.

Ethan Roscente strode forward, his suit jacket slung over one arm, tie hanging loose around his neck. Fresh off a transatlantic flight, he hadn't even bothered to fasten his collar.

"Ethan!" Bianca rushed toward him, eyes glittering.

He looked straight through her.

His gaze locked onto the door like a predator sighting prey, storm clouds gathering in those obsidian depths.

"Vivian's in there?" The question came out glacial.

Bianca shrank back. "Y-yes..."

Ethan's fist crashed against the door.

"Open it!"

No one moved.

He kicked the solid oak. It didn't budge.

"Mr. Roscente, perhaps we should call security—" someone ventured.

"Fuck off!"

At that moment, the door across the hall clicked open.

Vivian emerged rubbing sleep from her eyes, still wearing her performance gown.

"What's all the noise about?"

Silence swallowed the corridor whole.

Bianca's face drained of color. "H-how are you—"

Vivian leaned against the doorframe, yawning. "I was exhausted after the recital and borrowed a room to nap. And you all are...?"

Her gaze drifted to the source of the scandalous sounds. Understanding dawned. "Ah, that's just housekeeping. They've got the radio turned up rather loud."

Ethan crossed the distance in three strides.

He hauled her against his chest, arms banding like steel cables.

"You scared me half to death." His voice shook.

Vivian wheezed against his crushing embrace but found herself inexplicably soothed. She patted his back gently. "I'm fine."

Bianca's scream shattered the moment. "Impossible! I saw you drink the spiked champagne!"

Vivian lifted her head from Ethan's shoulder, eyes turning arctic.

"So it was you." She smoothed her skirt with deliberate slowness. "I never touched that glass."

Turning to the assembled crowd, her voice carried clearly. "Though Miss Semona seems awfully familiar with its contents. One might wonder..."

The implication hung in the air, damning.

Bianca stumbled backward, pallid. "No! It was Victoria—"

Danger flashed in Ethan's gaze.

"Perfect." He released Vivian and pulled out his phone. "Simon, call the police."