Chapter 7 - Confrontation
The ballroom floor was descending into quiet chaos. The scarred man, a former enforcer Eleanor had used to ruin Arthur, was cornering Lyra near the champagne fountain.
"You ain't the rich girl," the man hissed, grabbing Lyra's wrist tightly. "You got your daddy's eyes. The watchmaker's brat. Eleanor missed a spot, didn't she?"
Eleanor, noticing the commotion, excused herself and marched over, her eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Mr. Vance. I thought I told you to never return to this city."
"You didn't pay me enough to deal with this kind of liability, Eleanor," the man snarled, gesturing to Lyra.
Before Eleanor could signal her security, the heavy mahogany doors of the ballroom slammed open. Seraphina stood there, holding a thick stack of papers high in the air.
"Don't bother calling security, Elena," Seraphina's voice echoed through the massive room, silencing the orchestra.
Eleanor’s face drained of all color. The facade shattered instantly.
"Seraphina, go back to your room. You are having a manic episode," Eleanor tried to project calm, but her voice trembled.
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"My name is not Astor!" Seraphina yelled, marching onto the floor. She pointed at Lyra, who tore her arm away from the enforcer. "And she is not a distant cousin! She is my twin sister. And you are a fraud, a thief, and a kidnapper!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd of billionaires, politicians, and socialites. Cameras began to flash as the press, invited to cover the gala, turned their lenses on the imploding dynasty.
