The Billionaire's Deadly Deal

Alessandra didn't release the tension. She held Darius's gaze for a second longer, letting him see the challenge, before turning her attention to the real architect of this disaster.

She walked toward Ilene.

The crowd parted for her. Her red lipstick was a slash of violence in a sea of pastel gowns.

Ilene stood her ground, but her eyes flickered. A micro-expression of uncertainty. She wasn't used to the prey walking toward the hunter.

"Ilene," Alessandra said, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly gentle register. "You mentioned I might have 'trouble'? That I needed money?"

She reached out. Ilene flinched, expecting a slap.

Instead, Alessandra's fingers brushed the diamond necklace resting on Ilene's collarbone. It was a stunning piece-a cascade of white diamonds leading to a sapphire drop.

"This is exquisite," Alessandra murmured. "The setting... that's a Van Cleef & Arpels signature, the invisible setting from their '78 collection. I remember it from the Sotheby's catalog. Last month's auction. Lot 402."

She felt Ilene's pulse hammering against her fingertips.

"Darius has excellent taste," Alessandra added, loud enough for the surrounding circle to hear.

The whispers ignited instantly.

"Darius bought it?"

"I thought they were just friends."

"Is she the mistress?"

Ilene's face flushed a deep, blotchy red. The narrative was shifting. It was no longer about a desperate gold digger drugging a billionaire. It was about a jealous lover trying to eliminate the competition.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Ilene stammered. She took a step back, her hand flying to her chest.

"Oh, come on," Alessandra smiled, showing teeth. "If you're going to be the next Mrs. Brandt, you really shouldn't be so insecure. Why try to frame a 'nobody' like me? Unless..." She leaned in close. "Unless you're afraid he doesn't actually want you."

It was a direct hit.

Ilene's breathing hitched. She gasped, her hand clutching the diamonds so hard the setting must have dug into her skin. Her eyes rolled back slightly.

"I can't... I can't breathe," Ilene wheezed. She stumbled.

"Ilene!" Chloe, her loyal lapdog, shrieked from the sidelines. "She's having a panic attack! She has a heart condition! You're killing her!"

The sympathy in the room swung back like a pendulum.

"She's heartless," someone muttered.

"Attacking a sick girl."

Darius frowned. He hated scenes. He hated weakness. He looked at Ilene, who was now sagging into Chloe's arms, gasping for air like a fish on a dock.

Alessandra didn't back down. She checked her watch.

"Three... two... one," she counted under her breath.

She looked at Darius. "You might want to call an ambulance," she said, her tone clinical. "Or perhaps a casting director? The performance is a bit derivative, but the commitment is there."

Darius looked at Alessandra. He saw the utter lack of concern. He saw the sharp intelligence. And for a second, he saw a reflection of his own cynicism.

He gestured to his security team. "Take Ms. Walton to the VIP lounge. Get her water."

He didn't rush to Ilene's side. He didn't scold Alessandra.

Alessandra dusted off her hands, as if cleaning off dirt. "Well, since the main act is over, I'll excuse myself."

She turned to leave, her heart pounding against her ribs despite her calm exterior. She needed air. She needed to get away from him.

But a hand clamped onto her wrist. Sharp nails dug into her soft skin.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Alessandra looked down. Her mother, Vivian Abbott, was gripping her arm with enough force to leave bruises. Vivian's face was a mask of fury, her makeup settling into the deep lines of greed around her mouth.

"You idiot," Vivian hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "You ruined everything. Do you know what happened to your father? Do you know what they did to us? We're about to lose everything!"

Alessandra looked at the woman who had sold her out in the last timeline. The woman who had told her to "be a good wife" when Darius ignored her. The woman who had asked for a loan at Estella's funeral.

"Yes, Mother," Alessandra said coldly. "I just saved myself."