Chapter 2 - The Scent of Panic
Vanessa scrambled across the platform, hiking up her heavy satin train to avoid the puddle of alcohol creeping toward her silver heels. Her mother, draped in pale pink chiffon, rushed forward, fanning her daughter with a diamond-encrusted program while glaring daggers at Elena.
"Adrian, why are you asking *me* questions?" Vanessa stammered, her voice pitching high and tremulous, playing the terrified victim for the cameras flashing in the back. "She’s a psycho! Look at her! She broke into our venue! She destroyed the centerpiece! She ruined our moment!"
The whispers among the guests spread like wildfire. These were senators, venture capitalists, tech titans, and media moguls. Adrian Mercer was the golden boy of Silicon Valley, and Vanessa Vale was supposed to be the refined, philanthropic daughter of an old Virginia shipping dynasty.
To have an uninvited woman in emerald green shatter their centerpiece was a scandal that would headline every financial and gossip column by morning.
"Adrian... I said nothing!" Vanessa cried, tears rolling down her cheeks, smearing her expensive mascara. "She doesn't belong here! Call the police! Adrian, look at me!"
Elena didn’t yell. She didn’t sneer. She adjusted the strap of her gold clutch and looked straight into Adrian’s eyes.
"Three days ago," Elena said, her voice clear, melodious, and carrying over the hush of the room. "She sent me a message telling me I was scum. She told me that if I ever breathed your name again, she would make sure I woke up in a storm drain."
A collective gasp swept through the crowd.
Adrian’s jaw tightened until the muscles ticked beneath his skin. He slowly turned his gaze back to his bride. "Is that true?"
"No! She's lying! She’s jealous because you chose me!" Vanessa pleaded, reaching for his arm. But Adrian instinctively stepped back, letting her fingers slip against his sleeve. "She’s nobody, Adrian! Just some low-class charity case who used to hang around your office! You know how unstable she is!"
Elena tilted her head, a cold, elegant smile touching her lips. "Is that why you broke into my apartment on Wednesday, Vanessa? To warn the 'charity case'?"
Vanessa’s breath hitched. For a fraction of a second, the color drained completely from her face.
"I didn't break into anywhere," Vanessa whispered, her eyes darting toward the ballroom exit. "Security! Why aren't the guards doing their jobs?!"
Two burly men in black suits pushed through the double mahogany doors, their eyes fixed on Elena.
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👉 What did Elena pull from her clutch that made the security guards freeze in their tracks?
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