Jenna Ortega Met Gala นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“She leaked the real memo herself.” Veronica narrowed her eyes. “She’s flipping the narrative. Making herself the whistleblower.” Bradley scowled. “And she just outmaneuvered us with the truth.” Veronica downed the rest of her drink in one motion. “Fine,” she hissed. “If she wants war—she’ll get scorched.” The Orpheus Gala was supposed to be a neutral ground, a night where stars aligned under one roof to celebrate the humanitarian efforts of Hollywood’s elite. But tonight, it was a crucible.

Two weeks passed in a blur of events and appearances. Juliet learned to smile on command. To make small talk about things she didn't care about. To ignore whispers and sidelong glances. She was becoming Mrs. Olatunji, piece by piece. Tonight was the charity gala Selena had mentioned at the wedding. The biggest social event of the season. Everyone who mattered would be there. "Ready?" Ejike asked from her doorway. Juliet turned from the mirror. She wore a deep red gown that Femi had chosen specifically for this event. Bold, elegant, impossible to ignore.

she said. The gala? But that was still two weeks away! I had to get back to Silvermist. The war. I had to be there. We couldn’t wait that long. “I know it feels like a lifetime away,” Murietta said. “But trust me. The gala is our best chance. There will be hundreds of people here, Eden. The estate will be packed with socialites and mafia members and the likes. Plus, people will be coming and going all night. On PRIVATE helicopters.”

037. THE GALA Lucas sat in the gala, his gaze fixed on the door as he waited for Janette to walk in. He had been able to pull some strings into making her sit at the same table with him while Rosa would sit at the sane table with Alan so they could talk and make amends. Each second that passed felt like forever as he really wanted to see her. He kept tapping his feet and checking his wrist watch, wondering what was taking her so long. A few minutes later, he looked up, his eyes widening as he saw Janette walking in with Rosa behind her. She looked absolutely stunning in a black glittering gown that stopped at her feet, complementing her fine porcelain skin tone and giving her the sophisticat

The world didn’t just tilt; it vaporized. The roar of the motorcycle, the wind, the defiant fire in the sink—it all vanished into a white-hot static. I stared at the grainy image on Jeff’s phone, the words “Ortega heir” swimming in my vision. “What…” The word was a dry croak. I couldn’t form another. My hand flew to my stomach, a useless, instinctive gesture. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. We’d been careful. Except… that one night, after the charity gala, fueled by champagne and his whispered promises…

The ballroom glimmered with sophistication. Golden chandeliers poured light upon a sea of tuxedos and gowns, every aspect of the California grand hotel transformed into a refuge of charity and style. The Vogue Foundation Gala had pulled in the industry's most influential names. Cameras clicked. People laughed and glasses clinked. But everyone's eyes were focused on the woman at the podium at the center of the stage. Valeria Jayne. Wearing a floor-length ivory dress that clung to her body like it had been made for her and her alone, Valeria towered over everyone. Her diamond earrings sparkled, but it was the calm, authoritative dignity of her demeanor that captured the room.

The drive was long, and I drifted into an uneasy sleep until my phone jarred me awake. "Elena?" I answered groggily. "That fucking bitch!" Elena's voice exploded through the speaker. I startled fully awake. "What?" "Sorry, not you—I'm talking about a scene I just witnessed," she clarified quickly. "I'm at that charity gala tonight, and guess who showed up? Aurora! Some woman confronted her, calling her a homewrecker and accusing her of stealing her fiancé. She dumped a full glass of red wine all over Aurora's dress! The woman's from a prominent family, so it got ugly fast."

And then after a while she took him by the hand and led him through a narrow corridor until they got to the door at the end and walked in. I turned away. Looked around. Nico and Tomás were gone too. Vanished into the crowd like smoke. Now I was standing alone at a gala full of strangers. Perfect. The gala was awful. I tried to enjoy myself. I got a drink — something bubbly and expensive. I walked around, pretending to look at the artwork. I smiled at people who passed, but no one smiled back. Then the whispers started. "That's Alejandro Mendoza's daughter." "The one Romano married?"

I’m definitely winning the FNY (Face of New York) again this year. “Miss Jasmine is here…” “Her outfits are always lit…” “Check out her skin… ooh my gosh.” The press rushed me as soon as I arrived at the award event. My bodyguard blocked them from getting too close. A question caught my attention and I smirked, stopping to answer. “What can you say about Mrs. Bella Houston being the Gustavo abandoned bride?” “Hmmm, that’s the past. It’s so unfortunate someone would bring that up,” I replied with a pitiful look.

She was putting an earring in, not looking at me. "Does this work for the event?" "Yes," I said. Elena appeared behind her. "You look incredible. Kai, tell her she looks incredible." "I just did." "You said yes. That's not the same thing." Isla caught my eye in the hallway mirror. The corner of her mouth lifted. "You look incredible," I said. "Better," Elena announced, and went to get her coat. The gala was at the Meridian Hotel in Midtown. Our car pulled up at seven fifteen and the press presence outside was modest but present. Two photographers, a society column journalist I recognized, a video crew from a hospitality industry publication.