And the dress.
It was an archival masterpiece from Givenchy—a gown of midnight-blue silk velvet that hugged her slender waist before cascading down in a dramatic, sweeping train. The neckline was an off-the-shoulder cut that gracefully revealed her collarbones, while custom-tailored silk-mesh gloves lined in gossamer fabric covered her hands, disguising the white bandages underneath as an avant-garde fashion choice.
Around her throat, Eleanor had personally fastened the Callaway Star—a legendary forty-carat sapphire pendant surrounded by three tiers of flawless white diamonds.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Rose whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The door opened, and Nathaniel stepped into the room.
He was dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo with satin lapels, looking every inch the ruthless, breathtaking billionaire who commanded empires. But the moment his eyes landed on Rose, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The air in the room grew heavy, thick with an unspoken, overwhelming intensity. Nathaniel’s gaze swept slowly down the velvet of her dress, lingering on the gentle curve of her waist, before rising back to meet her hazel eyes. For the first time since Rose had met him, Nathaniel Callaway looked utterly disarmed.
“You look…” Nathaniel’s voice was lower, rougher than usual. He swallowed, stepping forward. “You look magnificent, Rose.”
A deep, warm blush rose to Rose’s cheeks. “I feel like an imposter. What if they laugh at me? What if Victoria—”
Nathaniel closed the distance between them, stopping mere inches away. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and gently touched her jaw with his long fingers. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver straight down her spine.
“Let them laugh,” Nathaniel murmured, his dark eyes boring into hers with an unshakeable, fierce certainty. “They will choke on it. You held my mother’s life in your hands when everyone else ran away. You have more courage, more dignity, and more beauty than every single coward in that ballroom combined. Walk beside me tonight, Rose. Let me show you how a Callaway defends the people who matter.”
Rose looked into his eyes, and the terrifying knot in her stomach slowly unfurled into something entirely different—something fierce, intoxicating, and burning bright.
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze evenly.
“I’m ready, Nathaniel.”
A slow, devastating smirk curved his handsome lips. He offered his arm.
“Then let’s go destroy an empire.”
The exterior of the Metropolitan Museum of Art looked like a war zone of light and sound.
Paparazzi swarmed against the barricades four deep, their massive telephoto lenses flashing in continuous, blinding bursts. Thousands of spectators screamed behind velvet ropes as black Maybachs, Rolls-Royces, and Bentleys disgorged the world’s financial elite onto the red carpet.
At the top of the grand marble stairs, Victoria Sterling Callaway stood surrounded by a fortress of microphones.
She wore a gown of pristine, virginal white silk—a deliberate, theatrical choice designed to remind the press of her ruined wedding. Her eyes were carefully dusted with red shadow to simulate recent weeping, and her diamond-clad fingers clung pathetically to the arm of her father, Senator Arthur Sterling.
“My heart is broken,” Victoria said into the cluster of microphones, her voice trembling with tragic elegance. “Nathaniel has been blinded by grief and manipulated by a woman who saw an opportunity to exploit my family’s tragedy. We have submitted sworn affidavits to the NYPD proving that this maid, Rose Jenkins, had been stalking our family for months. We believe she deliberately engineered the fall to extort the Callaway foundation!”
“Senator Sterling!” a reporter from CNN shouted. “Will you be filing civil charges against the Callaway family if they continue to harbor Miss Jenkins?”
“We are giving Nathaniel Callaway until midnight to turn that criminal over to the authorities,” Arthur Sterling declared, his chest puffed out with arrogant triumph. “If he fails to do so, we will file a two-hundred-million-dollar defamation and conspiracy lawsuit that will expose the Callaway Enterprises board for harboring an attempted murderer!”
The press erupted into a frenzy of shouted questions. Victoria lowered her head, allowing a single, perfect tear to slip down her cheek. Inside, her heart was soaring. The media was eating out of her hand. Her father’s judges were ready to sign the arrest warrants by morning. Nathaniel would have no choice but to settle, to hand over the proxy funds to save his family’s public reputation—
A sudden, deafening roar tore through the crowd at the base of the stairs.
Victoria blinked, looking down past the flashing cameras.
A long, matte-black armored limousine bearing the distinctive gold Callaway crest had just pulled up to the red carpet. Two Callaway security officers in crisp suits stepped out, immediately pushing back the press barricades to create a wide, untouchable corridor.
The rear door opened.
