The Crimson Stain on Privilege
The air in the Grand Ballroom of the Volkov Tower hummed with the silent orchestra of a million-dollar network.
E.g. ：My 'Friend' Knocked Over My Lunch Tray in the Cafeteria.
- 1、The Crimson Stain on Privilege
- 2、A Public Humiliation
- 3、The Billionaire's Unseen Fury
- 4、A Legacy Divided, A Secret Undone
- 5、The Unspoken Truth: A Father's Return
- 6、A Tragedy of Misunderstanding
Tonight was the zenith of the global jewelry scene’s calendar, the annual Starlight Gala.
Whispers mingled with the clinking of champagne flutes, all eyes drawn to the centerpiece display.
There, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, lay "Ethereal Echoes," the debut collection from Liana Petrova.
Liana, a name unknown just months ago, now stood poised on the precipice of legend.
Her designs were a breathtaking fusion of modern minimalism and antique allure, evoking a sense of timeless beauty.
She stood beside Marcus Thorne, the reclusive billionaire magnate whose Midas touch turned all to gold.
Thorne, rarely seen in public, had personally championed Liana, a testament to her undeniable talent.
Across the sprawling room, observing with chilling precision, was Elara Vance.
The scion of the Vance Dynasty, her family’s legacy woven into the very fabric of luxury.
Elara’s emerald eyes, usually sparkling with wit, held a glacial intensity tonight.
She watched Liana, her posture stiff, a pristine white gown a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her.
A crystal flute of rare Château Margaux felt heavy in her hand.
A Public Humiliation
As Liana began to articulate the inspiration behind her collection, her voice soft yet confident, Elara moved.
Her steps were deliberate, cutting a path through the glittering crowd.
A hush fell, an uneasy stillness as she approached the stage.
Liana, mid-sentence, saw Elara’s shadow fall across her.
A polite smile touched Liana’s lips, expecting perhaps a congratulatory word from the industry’s empress.
Instead, Elara’s smile was a chilling rictus, devoid of warmth.
Without a word, Elara lifted the glass.
The dark, rich liquid arced through the air, a slow-motion crimson wave.
It struck Liana with devastating precision, drenching her hair and staining her exquisite white gown.
The ruby red bloomed across the pristine fabric like a gruesome wound.
Gasps rippled through the stunned onlookers, followed by an immediate, horrified silence.
Liana stood frozen, wine dripping from her eyelashes, mixing with the tears that instantly welled.
Her hands instinctively flew to her face, trying to wipe away the burning liquid, her beautiful creation ruined.
Some guests giggled nervously, others recoiled in shock.
The Billionaire's Unseen Fury
Then, Marcus Thorne moved.
He had been a silent, imposing presence, but now a raw, primal energy radiated from him.
His perfect, symmetrical face contorted, not just into shock, but into a protective, incandescent rage.
His eyes, usually pools of calm authority, blazed with an inferno.
He pushed past the bewildered crowd, his gaze fixed solely on Liana, then flickered to Elara.
The sheer intensity of his wrath silenced the last nervous titter.
Elara, for the first time, seemed to flinch, a flicker of uncertainty in her defiant eyes.
Thorne reached Liana, his hand a sudden, gentle anchor on her arm.
He pulled her slightly behind him, shielding her from the invasive stares.
His gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to laugh, to judge.
The opulence of the gala dissolved, replaced by the raw, brutal dynamics of a street fight.
But what truly fueled such a public, devastating display of fury from a man known for his icy control?
It was not merely outrage at a young designer’s humiliation.
It was a revelation, a public declaration of a bond nobody could comprehend.
A Legacy Divided, A Secret Undone
For Elara, this moment was the culmination of months of simmering resentment and heartbreak.
Her mother, the brilliant artist Genevieve Vance, had perished tragically years ago.
Genevieve’s early design sketches, intimate and revolutionary, were her greatest legacy.
Among them was a particular series, a collection of ethereal floral motifs, a testament to her unique vision.
These sketches, a private gift to Elara before her death, were Elara's most cherished possession.
Months ago, Liana Petrova had burst onto the scene with "Ethereal Echoes."
Elara recognized the motifs instantly, not just as similar, but as almost identical in spirit and execution.
She saw Liana as a plagiarist, a parasite feasting on her mother’s genius.
The betrayal felt visceral, a desecration of her beloved mother’s memory.
Adding salt to the wound was Marcus Thorne’s unprecedented patronage.
