Chapter 8

A week later, the estate hosted a charity gala.

It was called a charity event, but really, it served as a stage for families to forge alliances and flaunt their power.

Vincent had Paul deliver a dress to me that morning-an outdated style from five years ago, its dull color a stark contrast to the dazzling Versace gown Sophia wore.

"Madam, Mr. Rossi insists you attend tonight and stay by Miss Visconti's side to assist with the guests," Paul said, his tone tinged with pity.

I looked at the dress, a cold laugh rising inside me.

Vincent wanted me to play the role of Sophia's shadow, to show everyone that I, the Rossi family's wife, was nothing more than her servant.

"Understood." I took the dress and closed the door.

Instead of putting it on, I pulled a black spaghetti-strap gown from my suitcase.

It was Diana's favorite dress, one I'd kept for moments that mattered.

I pinned a small brooch to the neckline, concealing a tiny camera I'd bought on the dark web to record everything tonight.

When the gala began, I entered the banquet hall on time.

Vincent stood with Sophia at the center, basking in the crowd's flattery.

Sophia, in her vibrant blue designer gown and sparkling diamond necklace, glowed like a proud peacock.

When she saw me, surprise flickered in her eyes, quickly replaced by a scornful smile.

"Elena, what's with that outfit?" she said loudly, ensuring everyone heard. "That dress looks so old. Has Vincent not given you money for new clothes? Don't worry, I have plenty of dresses I've only worn once. You can have them if you don't mind hand-me-downs."

Laughter rippled through the crowd, their gazes piercing me like needles.

I didn't flinch. Instead, I smiled. "Thank you, but I love this dress. It was Diana's, and it means a lot to me."

Sophia's face paled briefly, caught off guard by my response.

Vincent frowned, tugging her arm gently. "Stop it," he muttered.

Sophia huffed but fell silent.

Vincent turned to me, his tone carrying a warning. "Elena, this is an important night. Don't upset Sophia."

I ignored him and walked to a corner of the hall.

A bar stood there, and I needed a drink to steady myself.

"Excuse me, miss, who might you be?" A man in a white suit approached, holding a glass of champagne, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

I glanced at him, recognizing Ricardo, heir to the Costa family.

The Costas were rivals to both the Rossi and Visconti families.

"I'm Elena Rossi," I said coolly.

"Oh? Vincent Rossi's wife." Ricardo smiled. "I heard about your sister Diana's passing. Such a shame. But I also heard her death had something to do with the Visconti family's heiress."

My heart tightened, and I eyed him warily. "What do you want?"

"Nothing." Ricardo sipped his champagne. "Just find it interesting. Vincent siding with the Visconti girl, ignoring his own wife, even brushing off your sister's death. Imagine if the media got wind of this, if it spread online. What kind of storm would hit the Rossi family?"

I studied Ricardo, an idea sparking in my mind.

The Costas and Viscontis were enemies. If I allied with Ricardo, I might uncover evidence faster and exact my revenge sooner.

"Mr. Costa," I leaned closer, my voice low, "what exactly are you after?"