Chapter 239

Aria Bennett returned to the capital just in time for the Vale Group's annual charity auction.

Roman Vale personally delivered the gilded invitation to her, adding with a meaningful smile, "There are several rare treasures up for bidding—ones I think you'll find particularly intriguing."

On the day of the event, Damian Cross rushed back from his western film set, driving straight to pick Aria up in his sleek sedan. Their destination: the exclusive Sixfold Club in the suburbs.

Uniformed attendants opened their car doors with practiced grace. As Aria handed over her invitation, she caught the flicker of surprise in the doorman's eyes.

The penthouse ballroom glittered under crystal chandeliers, filled with socialites clinking champagne flutes. Aria entered on Damian's arm, her ice-blue cheongsam embroidered with delicate silver motifs catching the light. The dress was part of a matching set Vivienne Archer had commissioned—ice blue, buttercup yellow, and crimson—for their trio's coordinated debut tonight.

"Is that... Aria Bennett?" Several starlets accompanying wealthy patrons exchanged startled glances. When they witnessed the club manager's warm greeting to Damian and unusually deferential attitude toward Aria, whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire.

In a shadowed corner, the Whitmore and Valmont families observed the scene with icy disdain. Celine Valmont's knuckles whitened around her champagne flute. "How dare she show her face here?"

"Just another gold-digging actress clinging to the Cross heir," Vera Whitmore sneered, nostrils flaring. "Watch how quickly she falls when her sugar daddy tires of her."

Lucien Valmont's gaze lingered on Aria's profile—so eerily reminiscent of Evelyn Bennett's—until his daughter yanked his sleeve. "Father! Why are you staring at that nobody?"

Across the room, Conrad Vale moved to greet Aria and Damian, their easy camaraderie drawing envious stares. Vera's eyes burned with venom. "That little tramp's wormed her way into the Vale family now?"

"Enough!" Lucien snapped. "Remember your station."

Near the champagne tower, Owen Archer circulated with Serena Blake on his arm. When Vivienne entered laughing with a handsome companion, his glass jerked violently.

Serena noted his reaction. "You know her?"

"Not really," Owen ground out, though his gaze tracked the crimson-clad figure like a compass needle. The sight of Vivienne whispering intimately with her escort sent an irrational spike of irritation through him.

Aria turned as if sensing something, meeting Vera's poisonous glare head-on. A faint smile curved her lips as she flicked her fingers subtly. A wisp of shadow detached itself, vanishing into Vera's designer gown unnoticed.

"See something interesting?" Damian murmured.

Aria swirled her champagne, the ice-blue silk shimmering like moonlit water. "Just watching... prey walk willingly into the trap."