Chapter 113
Chapter 113:
Tears welled up in her eyes instantly. It was a reflex for her.
“Liam,” she sobbed. “Make him stop p>
Liam glared at Ethan. “Back off, Ethan. You’re making a scene. If you accuse my partner of theft again, I’ll have security remove you p>
“Partner?” Ethan laughed, a harsh, barking sound. “She’s a thief, Liam. And you’re an idiot if you can’t see it p>
“That’s enough!” Liam shoved Ethan back.
Before Ethan could retaliate, the double doors at the far end of the ballroom swung open. It wasn’t a polite opening. The doors hit the stops with a bang.
The room turned.
Skye Sterling stood there.
She wasn’t wearing a gown. She wasn’t wearing anything that would make her look like a victim or a wife. She was wearing a tuxedo.
It was a sharp, black Yves Saint Laurent suit, tailored to within an inch of its life. She wore elegant flat velvet loafers—a necessary concession to the ankles she had injured weeks ago—but she wore them with such confidence they looked like a fashion statement rather than a medical necessity. Her hair was slicked back, exposing the sharp angles of her face.
She looked dangerous.
She looked powerful.
She walked into the room, flanked by Harper Quinn and two large men in dark suits. She didn’t look at Liam. She looked straight at Seraphina.
The crowd parted for her like the Red Sea.
Skye stopped three feet from them. She looked Seraphina up and down, her expression pure, unadulterated disgust.
“Nice dress,” Skye said. Her voice was calm, carrying effortlessly into the silent room.
“Skye,” Liam started, stepping forward. “We can discuss this p>
N𝗼 𝗆i𝘀si𝗇𝗀 𝘤𝘩a𝗉𝘁e𝗿𝘀 оո 𝖻𝘦.𝘤o𝗆
“Quiet,” Skye said. She didn’t even look at him. She kept her eyes on Seraphina. “That dress was commissioned for my twenty-third birthday. It was kept in the secured, climate-controlled vault at the Sterling Estate p>
Seraphina shrank back, her eyes darting nervously.
“The vault,” Skye continued, her voice dropping to an icy whisper, “that my Uncle Arthur, in his current financial desperation, seems to have left unguarded. Or perhaps he simply looked the other way to spite me. Did you pay him, Seraphina? Or did you just walk in while the staff were being laid off p>
“I didn’t steal it!” Seraphina cried, shrinking behind Liam. “Someone sent it to me! Why does everyone hate me p>
Skye signaled to Harper. Harper held up a tablet, displaying a digital receipt and a photo of the dress on a mannequin in a Milan atelier.
“The serial number is stitched into the hemline,” Skye said coldly. “Reference number 894-Alpha. Do you want to check, or should we call the police and have them do a strip search for evidence p>
The murmur in the room turned into a roar of gossip.
“She stole from the ex-wife p>