Chapter Thirty-Three: The Seal and the Stare

The gala should have ended hours ago, but victory has a way of stretching time like taffy, making every moment sweeter and more intoxicating than the last.

I was sitting quietly in one of the velvet chairs in the east corridor, my body still aching from my tumble down the stairs but my spirit soaring higher than it had in months. The adrenaline from exposing Lydia and Delacroix was finally beginning to fade, leaving behind a satisfaction so deep it felt like sinking into warm honey.

The remaining guests moved around us in small clusters, their voices hushed with the kind of reverence reserved for witnessing history being made. The air still crackled with the electricity of what had just transpired—the public destruction of two women who'd thought themselves untouchable, the elevation of a woman they'd tried to bury.

That's when Dominic's security chief appeared, his face flushed and slightly breathless from running through the mansion.

He looked straight at Dominic, his voice carrying just enough volume for the nearby guests to hear every word that would seal our victory.

"We found it, sir. The gift. Just where Mrs. Blackwood said it would be—safely hidden in her private suite, exactly as she placed it."

The words dropped into the room like a stone into still water, sending ripples of understanding through every conversation.

Every pair of eyes turned to me.

Every pair that had doubted my intelligence. Questioned my motives. Whispered about my worthiness.

Every face that had looked at me with pity or condescension or barely concealed disgust.

Now they were all staring with something that looked suspiciously like awe.

Dominic's client—the silver-haired titan of old European money whose approval could make or break empires—leaned forward in his chair, his weathered brows raised with genuine interest.

"Is that so?" His accent carried the weight of centuries of breeding and power.

Dominic smiled, slow and dangerous and absolutely predatory. The expression transformed his entire face, making him look less like a businessman and more like a conqueror surveying his conquered territory.

"It is," he said, his voice carrying to every corner of the corridor. "Turns out my wife is considerably smarter than anyone gave her credit for. Including myself."

I didn't smile.

I didn't need to.

I simply stood with the fluid grace of a woman who'd finally found her footing, and walked calmly across the room. Through the lingering crowd of people who had once refused to acknowledge my existence and now couldn't tear their eyes away from me.

My heels clicked against the marble with rhythmic precision, each step a declaration of war won and territory claimed.

The gift was presented to me like an offering—a small velvet box that contained more than jewelry or precious stones.

It contained vindication.

Symbolic. Priceless. Everything riding on its safe return.

I handed it to Dominic with the ceremony it deserved, our fingers brushing in a moment that sent electricity shooting up my arm. He took it, opened it with deliberate slowness, and held it out to his client like he was presenting the crown jewels.

The old man examined it with the careful attention of someone who'd spent decades evaluating priceless artifacts. His weathered hands turned the piece over, checking for authenticity, for damage, for any sign that it wasn't exactly what it claimed to be.

Then he looked at the gift.

Then at me.

Then at Dominic.

"You chose very well indeed," he said finally, his voice thick with accent and hard-won approval. "She's not just beautiful—though she is undeniably that. She's strategy wrapped in silk and steel. Intelligence disguised as elegance."

He extended his hand to Dominic, and when they shook, I could practically feel the billions of dollars changing hands.

"The deal is yours, Mr. Blackwood. With my compliments and my respect."

And just like that—

The night turned from nightmare to triumph.

Applause erupted through the corridor like thunder, echoing off the marble walls and crystal chandeliers. Camera flashes lit up the space as society photographers captured the moment that would grace tomorrow's financial pages.

Investors swarmed Dominic, clapping him on the back and offering congratulations with the enthusiasm of people who'd just witnessed a masterclass in power and strategy. Foreign dignitaries raised their glasses in toasts that mixed three languages and centuries of tradition.

Someone even said my name aloud—"Scarlett Blackwood"—like it finally tasted different in their mouths. Like it meant something more than scandal and shame.

Like it meant power.

Dominic turned to me through the chaos, a crystal champagne flute appearing in his hand as if summoned by magic.

His voice carried over the celebration, deep and sure and absolutely commanding as he raised the glass.

"To the woman who gave me more than loyalty," he announced, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my knees weak. "She gave me victory. She gave me power. She gave me everything I didn't know I needed."

The crowd erupted again, but I barely heard them.

All I could see was the way Dominic was looking at me—like I was a miracle he'd never expected to receive.

And for the first time in my entire life, I wasn't the scandal.

I was the storm.

I was the force that shaped the world around me instead of being shaped by it.

I was exactly who I was meant to be.

***

It was nearly dawn by the time the mansion began to empty, the last of the guests trickling out into the pre-morning darkness with their heads full of gossip and their phones full of photos that would fuel society pages for weeks.

I stood in the garden courtyard, breathing in the cool air that tasted of roses and victory. The last of the golden light from the paper lanterns flickered over marble fountains and flower-draped columns, creating shadows that danced like ghosts of the evening's drama.

My body was finally beginning to remember the fall down the stairs—my shoulder ached, my ribs protested with every deep breath, and there was a bruise forming along my hip that would probably be spectacular by tomorrow. But the pain felt distant, muffled by the euphoria of watching my enemies destroy themselves.

That's when Dominic found me.