Chapter 4: The Laurent Counterattack
Celeste Laurent was not a woman used to losing.
Standing in the penthouse suite of the Laurent family’s high-rise, she hurled a crystal vase at the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces, mirroring the state of her meticulously planned future.
"She humiliated me!" Celeste screamed at her father, Richard Laurent, who was furiously typing on his phone. "She took my chair, she stopped the merger, and now Adrian won't even return my calls! Fix this, Dad!"
Richard looked up, his eyes cold and calculating. "Screaming won't get your ring back, Celeste. If this maid wants to play in the big leagues, we remind her where she came from. No one just arrives in our world without skeletons."
"She’s a servant," Celeste sneered. "Her whole life is a skeleton."
"Exactly. I have private investigators digging into her mother. If Edmund Vale kept Elena a secret, there’s a reason. We find the dirt, we leak it to the New York Journal, and we destroy her public credibility. The board will force her out to save the stock price."
That evening, the annual Vale Charity Gala was scheduled to take place at the Metropolitan Museum. It was the event of the season, and traditionally, Lady Victoria hosted it. This year, the press was lined up five deep, waiting to see if the new "Bastard Heiress" would show her face.
Inside the museum, under the shadow of Egyptian artifacts, Celeste held court in a stunning red Valentino gown, whispering loudly to a circle of socialites.
"It’s tragic, really," Celeste said, dabbing her dry eyes with a tissue. "Adrian is devastated. The girl is clearly a con artist. We suspect she forged the documents herself. You know how these people are... grasping, desperate."
The crowd murmured in agreement.
Then, the murmurs stopped. A ripple of absolute silence parted the sea of elites.
Elena descended the grand staircase. She wore a sleek, midnight-black gown that fit her like a second skin, elegant and understated. But it wasn't the dress that made everyone stop breathing.
It was the necklace.
Resting against Elena’s collarbone was the Vale Star—a massive, flawless fifty-carat sapphire surrounded by diamonds. It was the most famous piece of jewelry in the family’s history, worn by Edmund’s grandmother, and supposedly lost for decades.
Celeste choked on her champagne. Victoria, standing near the ice sculpture, looked as though she had been struck by lightning.
Elena glided into the crowd. Photographers snapped wildly, capturing the undisputed proof of her heritage shining at her throat. She approached Celeste and Victoria, holding a glass of sparkling water.
"Beautiful event, Victoria," Elena smiled, her tone perfectly polite, loud enough for the reporters to hear. "I found this in my father's private vault this afternoon. Along with a note. He wrote that it was to be worn by the true woman of the house."
Celeste stepped forward, her face twisted in rage. "You little thief. You think putting on a shiny rock makes you one of us? My father is releasing a story tomorrow about your mother. Let’s see how much society loves you when they find out your mother was an escort who blackmailed Edmund Vale!"
The crowd gasped. The cameras flashed faster.
Elena didn't blink. She took a sip of her water, perfectly calm. "My mother was a concert pianist, Celeste. And the only person being blackmailed was my father—by yours."
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Elena signaled to Sterling, who stepped out of the shadows and handed a flash drive to a prominent journalist standing nearby.
"That drive contains audio recordings of Richard Laurent threatening to ruin my father's company if he didn't agree to this arranged marriage," Elena announced. She looked at Celeste, her eyes filled with pity. "He didn't want you, Celeste. You weren't a bride. You were a ransom."
