Chapter 5 - The Gala of Lies
The annual Astor Foundation Gala was the crown jewel of the city’s social calendar. The mansion’s grand ballroom was transformed into a shimmering ocean of crystal chandeliers, flowing champagne, and billionaires making backdoor deals.
Eleanor moved through the crowd like a queen, her smile brilliant, her eyes calculating. She believed her problem was safely locked in the east wing, unaware that a storm was brewing directly under her roof.
Upstairs, the twins were trading clothes.
"You just have to nod, smile, and look vaguely bored," Seraphina instructed as she zipped up a stunning, emerald-green Vera Wang gown on Lyra. "If anyone asks you a direct question, just say, 'Mother handles the business, I handle the aesthetics.' They eat that up."
Lyra stared at her reflection. The street rat was gone. In her place stood the Astor heiress, radiant and untouchable. "And what are you going to do?"
Seraphina strapped on Lyra’s combat boots, pairing them with a dark hoodie. "I'm going into Eleanor's private archives in the basement. She’s distracted tonight. It’s our only chance to find the rest of the documents."
The plan was highly risky, but the payoff was the truth. Lyra took a deep breath, practicing the arrogant tilt of the chin she had seen Seraphina do, and stepped out into the hallway.
Descending the grand staircase, Lyra felt the weight of a hundred gazes. She kept her face blank, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm. She spotted Eleanor across the room, laughing with a senator.
"Seraphina, darling!" a wealthy dowager squawked, grabbing Lyra’s arm. "You look simply divine. How are your piano lessons coming along?"
Lyra froze. She had never touched a piano in her life. "Mother handles the music," Lyra said smoothly, repeating the mantra. "I handle the aesthetics."
May you like
The dowager blinked, then burst into roaring laughter. "Oh, you are just as sharp as Eleanor!"
Lyra forced a smile, but across the room, she locked eyes with a heavily scarred man in an ill-fitting tuxedo. He wasn't looking at her like she was an heiress. He was looking at her like he recognized a ghost.
