Chapter 8 - The High-Society Charity Gala: Stepping Onto Daphne’s Turf
Outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art, hundreds of photographers were lined up along the red carpet.
Flashbulbs popped like continuous lightning against the evening sky.
Daphne Waverly stood near the press pen, holding a crystal-encrusted microphone.
She looked pristine in an ultra-thin silver sequin dress, her face painted into a flawless smile as she interviewed arriving celebrities.
Beside her, Jared Abbott stood in the VIP receiving area, sporting a smug grin.
His wrist was hidden beneath a tailored French cuff, and his social media following had spiked after the viral scandal.
“Daphne, you’re looking incredible tonight!” Jared whispered during a commercial break. “That stunt last week was the best PR move we ever made.”
Daphne laughed, checking her lipstick in a compact mirror.
“I told you. Delaney is pathetic, but she’s useful. People love watching a trainwreck. My engagement is up forty percent.”
“Has she tried calling you?”
“She sent some dramatic text blocking me,” Daphne scoffed, rolling her eyes. “She’ll come crawling back by Christmas. She always does. Without me, she’s nobody.”
Suddenly, the roar of the crowd outside shifted.
The rhythmic clicking of cameras suddenly erupted into a deafening roar.
Security guards scrambled to form a tighter perimeter around the VIP arrival lane.
A matte-black Rolls-Royce Phantom, bearing the distinctive Vance emblem, pulled up to the foot of the red carpet.
Daphne’s producer hissed into her earpiece:
“Daphne! Heads up! Salvatore Vance just arrived! He NEVER attends galas! Get over there and get an interview on camera!”
Daphne’s eyes lit up with predatory ambition.
An exclusive with Salvatore Vance could launch her career onto national television.
She signaled her camera crew to follow her as she pushed through the press cordon toward the car.
The driver opened the rear door.
Salvatore Vance stepped out into the blinding lights.
The crowd went wild.
He ignored the shouting reporters and turned back to the vehicle, extending a large, steady hand.
May you like
A manicured hand with gold-tipped nails took his.
Then, stepping out of the vehicle, the woman in the molten gold gown emerged.
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