Chapter 2 - The Anatomy of a Scandal
-2-
The collective intake of breath across the Grandon Hotel ballroom sounded like a sudden gust of wind sweeping through autumn leaves. Flashbulbs from hidden tabloid photographers began to pop in rapid succession from the edges of the room, capturing every single micro-expression of absolute devastation on Liam’s face and incandescent fury on Amber’s. Valentina Rossi finally stood up from her seat at the family table, her face carved from stone, her diamond-encrusted fingers gripping her champagne glass so tightly I thought the crystal might shatter in her grip.
“Nico,” Valentina’s voice rang out, sharp and laced with a venomous warning. “Have you completely lost your mind? Making a public spectacle of yourself—and with a girl of absolute zero pedigree—is disgraceful enough. But parading her around in front of your own flesh and blood? What kind of sick game are you playing?”
Nico didn't flinch. He didn't even turn around immediately. He kept his hand firmly anchored to the small of my back, guiding me forward with an unhurried, royal grace that made the surrounding crowd part like the Red Sea. Only when we were standing a mere five feet away from the Rossi family table did Nico finally look back at his ex-wife, his dark eyes flashing with a cold, unforgiving fire.
“Val, let’s get one thing straight,” Nico said, his voice dropping into that dangerously calm register that commanded absolute submission. “The only disgrace at this table is the lineage sitting right beside our son. You spent twenty years teaching Liam how to manage a balance sheet, but you clearly forgot to teach him basic human decency. Or perhaps he learned his lack of loyalty directly from the family tree.”
Liam’s face turned a mottled, sickly shade of purple. He stepped forward, ignoring his mother’s restraining hand, his chest heaving as his eyes darted frantically between his father and me. “Dad, you don’t understand! Luna... Luna is lying to you! She’s unstable! She came home yesterday and threw a hysterical fit, she’s just trying to get back at me because—because we realized we weren't right for each other!”
“Right for each other?” I spoke up for the first time, my voice slicing through the tense air with a crystalline clarity that made Liam snap his mouth shut. I stepped out slightly from under Nico’s protective shadow, meeting my ex-boyfriend’s terrified gaze head-on. “Is that what you call lying in my bed with my own sister while laughing about how predictable and safe I was? Is that what you call ‘not right for each other,’ Liam?”
A collective murmur erupted through the surrounding crowd. Whispers rippled from table to table like wildfire. Sister? He cheated with her sister? In her own bed? Socialites who had been praising the Rossi family five minutes prior were now whispering behind their menus, their eyes darting greedily toward Amber, who looked as though she wanted the marble floor to open up and swallow her whole.
Amber’s composure completely shattered. She lunged forward, her face twisted into an ugly snarl. “Shut up, Luna! You pathetic little liar, you set this up! You planted cameras, you—!”
“That’s enough, Amber,” a deep, chilling voice commanded.
It wasn't Nico. It was Arthur Vance, a senior partner at Vance & Sterling Capital and one of the largest investors in Liam’s tech startup, who had been sitting at the adjacent table. Arthur slowly rose, looking down at Liam and Amber with undisguised disgust. “Rossi, if your son’s moral compass is this completely bankrupt, how can any of us trust him to manage the venture capital funds we allocated to his firm last month? My legal team will be reviewing our contracts by first light tomorrow.”
Liam staggered backward as if he’d been physically punched in the gut. “Mr. Vance, please! Don’t let a personal domestic dispute interfere with—!”
“Personal domestic dispute?” Arthur scoffed, adjusting his cuffs. “Your father just walked into the room with your ex-fiancée, and your entire life is imploding because you couldn't keep your hands off your own prospective sister-in-law. You’re a liability, Liam. To this family, and to Wall Street.”
Before Liam could beg further, Nico raised his hand slightly, signaling the head maitre d’ of the Grandon Hotel, who was hovering nervously near the service doors with a walkie-talkie.
“Marcus,” Nico said smoothly. “Kindly escort Mr. Liam Rossi and Miss Amber Montigue off the premises. Their presence is disrupting the charity foundation’s philanthropic mission.”
“Right away, Mr. Rossi,” Marcus replied instantly, snapping his fingers. Four burly hotel security guards in sharp black suits materialized out of nowhere, stepping firmly on either side of Liam and a hyperventilating Amber.
“Dad! You can’t do this to me! I’m your son!” Liam screamed as two guards grabbed his arms, lifting him slightly off the floor as they dragged him backward toward the grand double doors.
“You stopped being my son the day you decided honor meant nothing,” Nico replied without a single trace of emotion, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
Amber kicked and screamed as she was hauled out right behind him, her designer heels clicking frantically against the marble, her face streaked with mascara tears as hundreds of New York’s elite watched her humiliating ejection in absolute, stunned silence. The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them, sealing the silence.
Nico turned to me, the harsh, unforgiving mask melting away into something softer, almost tender, as he offered me a slight, gentlemanly bow.
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“Shall we dance, Luna?” he asked softly, extending his hand.
The string quartet, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, tentatively struck up a slow, haunting waltz. I placed my hand in Nico’s, looking up into his dark, unfathomable eyes, knowing that our game had only just begun.
