Chapter 218
In the waiting room, the TV washlaring.
“Victoria Hayes to host Kensington Pictures Gala,” the announcer chirped.
Skye stopped
The screen showed Victoria, looking radiant and recovered, standing next to a poster for a new film funded by Kensington Global.
“In a surprise move,” the reporter said, “Victoria Hayes has stepped in to host tonight’s gala, lending her family’s prestige to the embattled studio. Liam Kensington, who is currently out on emergency medical bail following last night’s ‘accident, is rumored to be attending despite the controversy.”
Skye narrowed her eyes. Liam was working with Victoria?
It was a masterstroke of desperation. Liam had clearly used his injuries from the mill-and likely a very expensive legal team— to delay the arrest warrant, claiming self-defense against Victor. He won’t hiding; he was doubling down, using the gala asa shield. If he appeared publicly with Victoria Hayes, he gained legitimacy. He needed money; Victoria needed a platform to get Alistair’s attention-or at least, that was her cover story.
“The enemy of my “Skye whispered.
Her phone buzzed. An email.
Subject: Invitation to Kensington Pictures Gala
From Liam Kensington.
The body of the email was simpla Come see what real loyalty looks like.
Skyw laughed. It was trap. A blatant, obvious trap.
She hit reply.
I’ll be there. Save me a front-row seat for the train wreck.
She wasn’t going to hide. She was the CEO of Sterling Corp now. And she was going to crash their party.
Skye returned to her apartment to prepare for war. Harper was already there, holding a garment bag.
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“I heard you accepted the invite,” Harper said, shaking her hand. “You have a death wish.”
“I have a strategy.”Skyw corrected. “Liam is trying to us Victoria to make Alistair jealand secure Hayes funding. If that happens, Kensington Global survives. I can’t let that happen.”
“And Alistair?” Harparked. “He’ll be there. With her.”
“Let him,” Skye said, though her stomach twisted. “If he stands by her while she attacks me, then I’ll know he’s playing his part. And I’ll play mine.”
Harper unipped the bag. “Well, if we’re going into battle, we need armor.”
It wasn’t red this time. It was gold.
A floor-length gown of liquid gold sequins, with a slit up the thigh and a back that plunged dangerously low. It looked like molten metal.
“The Golden Age,” Sky said, touching the fabric. “I like it.”
“It says “I own the bank,” Harper grinned.
Skyw’s phone rang. It was Felix Carter, Alistair’s right-hand man.
“Ms. Sterling,” Felix sounded stressed. “Mr. Thorne asked me to call you. He strongly advises you not to attend tonight.”
“the dow,” Sky said, putting the phone on speaker while she started her makeup.” he afraid I’ll post his fac cover?”