Chapter 466
Chapter 466:
Skye frowned. The attacks were coordinated. Dominic’s money was already at work.
A hand reached down and gently took the phone from her grip. Alistair stood over her. He pressed the power button, turning the screen black.
“Stop looking at the noise,” he commanded gently.
“They are attacking us,” Skye said, looking up at him. “Dominic is spending his new loan on smear campaigns p>
“Let him spend it,” Alistair said. “It is money he owes us. He is essentially paying us to insult us p>
He pulled her up from the sofa. He didn’t let go of her hand.
“Dance with me,” he said.
“There is no music,” Skye pointed out.
“I can hear it,” Alistair whispered.
He pulled her close. One hand on her waist, the other holding hers—just like in the photo. They swayed slowly in the silence of the penthouse.
Skye rested her head on his chest. She could hear the steady, powerful beat of his heart. It was a rhythm she had come to rely on.
“Tomorrow, everything changes,” she whispered into his shirt. “Once we walk into that party, there is no going back. We are declaring war on the Kensingtons and the Thornes simultaneously p>
Alistair kissed the top of her head.
“Let them come,” he vowed. “I will burn the world before I let them touch you again p>
Meanwhile, miles away in a bedroom filled with shopping bags, Sienna Quinn was lying on her bed, struggling to breathe. She had been trying to zip up the Imperial Brocade dress for an hour.
“Harder!” she screamed at her maid. “Pull it harder p>
The maid grunted, putting her foot against the bed frame for leverage. She yanked the zipper.
Zip.
It closed.
Sienna gasped. Her ribs felt like they were being crushed. She could not take a full breath. She could not bend at the waist. She was a rigid, brocade sausage.
She stood up, waddling slightly. She looked into the mirror. She looked stiff, uncomfortable, and ridiculous.
R𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 с𝗈𝗆𝘮𝗎𝗇i𝘁y o𝗇 𝘣𝘦𝗹ոо𝘷𝖾l𝘀.с𝗼𝗺
But in her delusion, she saw perfection.
“Perfect,” Sienna wheezed. “I look… snatched p>
She didn’t know she was looking at her own funeral shroud.
The sun rose over Seaview City, casting long shadows that split the town into two distinct battlegrounds.
On the east side, Kensington Manor stood imposing and gray. On the west, the Thorne Estate was a sprawling fortress of green lawns and stone walls.
By 6:00 PM, the difference between the two venues was painfully obvious.
At Kensington Manor, the ballroom was decorated with thousands of pink roses. It smelled like a funeral parlor. A string quartet played in the corner, looking bored.
Sienna stood at the top of the stairs, waiting. She was sweating in her dress. The fabric didn’t breathe. It trapped her body heat like a kiln.
She checked her watch. 6:15 PM.
“Where is everyone?” she hissed at Beatrice.
The ballroom was empty. A few distant cousins of the Kensington family hovered near the buffet, eating shrimp.
But the A-listers? The politicians? The tech moguls?
Gone.