Chapter 5 - The Unraveling of Celeste
Back in the grand ballroom, the silence remained unbroken.
Celeste Rinaldi’s face was red, her emerald silk dress no longer giving her the air of royalty, but rather making her look small and remarkably foolish.
"Elias," Celeste stammered, her voice losing its polished rhythm. "You can't be serious. She's... she's a employee. A service worker. I was merely pointing out that your status—"
"My status," Elias interrupted, taking a slow, deliberate step toward Celeste, "is built on the work of people who possess actual talent and integrity. Values you clearly know nothing about."
Celeste gasped, her eyes darting around the room, searching for allies among her high-society peers. But every person in the circle had stepped back, sensing the cold, absolute finality in Elias's tone. No one in Manhattan was foolish enough to defend Celeste Rinaldi if it meant crossing Elias Vescari.
"Your father's shipping line relies on Vescari docks in Newark and Rotterdam, Celeste," Elias added, his voice dropping into a razor-thin register. "If I hear you speak to Mrs. Bennett—or any person in this room—with that level of disrespect again, those docking leases will be reviewed before business opens on Monday morning."
Celeste turned pale, her lower lip trembling. She didn't say another word. She pulled her emerald train behind her, turned on her high heels, and hurried toward the terrace doors, her entourage scattering behind her like autumn leaves in a sudden wind.
The tension in the ballroom began to dissolve into nervous whispers as guests turned back to their champagne glasses, pretending they hadn't just witnessed the social execution of one of the city's wealthiest heiresses.
Elias didn't look at them.
He turned back to Nora.
May you like
His broad hand reached out, gently wrapping around her elbow—not to command her, but to support her, his touch remarkably light for a man of his size.
"Let's get some air," he said softly.
