The champagne glass slipped from Aria's hand before she could stop it.
It hit the marble floor with a sharp crash, shattering into glittering pieces. The sound was so loud, it felt as though the entire ballroom had gone silent just to hear it.
Every head turned toward her. Every eye was on her. The music faltered, hanging in the air like a held breath.
Her chest tightened. Her pulse jumped wildly.
Across the table, Sebastian smiled. That perfect smile of his, the one he always wore in public. To everyone else, he looked calm, charming, completely in control. But beneath the tablecloth, his hand pressed firmly against her thigh, a grip that was too tight, too controlling.
To the crowd, it looked like affection. To Aria, it felt like shackles.
"Pick it up," Sebastian said.
His voice was low, smooth, and dangerous, like a blade hidden in silk. His eyes locked onto hers with a warning.
Aria's throat tightened. She wanted to obey, her body screamed at her to do it, to keep the peace, to preserve the picture of perfection. That was how it had always been. Her job was to smile, to play the role, to never let the cracks show.
But her fingers clenched into fists in her lap.
She swallowed, heart pounding, and said the word that changed everything.
"No."
The sound was small, but it carried across the room like thunder. Murmurs rippled immediately through the crowd. Gasps followed. People leaned forward, whispering behind their hands, waiting for the next move.
Sebastian's smile didn't move, but his jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together. "Careful, darling," he said, his tone polite but full of venom. "People might think we're… unhappy."
Aria leaned closer, her voice sharper than she thought possible. "Maybe they should."
His hand dug into her thigh, his nails biting through the delicate silk of her gown. She flinched at the pain, but she refused to look away.
From across the room, she felt a stare that burned.
Lorenzo.
He was leaning casually against the bar, whiskey glass in hand. His pose was relaxed, his expression unreadable—but his eyes were fixed on her. Dark. Steady. Watching. Waiting.
Sebastian noticed. Of course he did. His lips curved into something cruel. "Ah," he said softly, "so that's it."
Aria's heart jolted. "Don't," she warned, her voice trembling with anger.
Sebastian leaned even closer, his breath hot against her ear. His tone was silk, but sharp like a knife. "The stray dog thinks he can touch what's mine."
Aria's chest burned. The words slipped out before she could stop them. "I'm not yours."
The world seemed to stop.
Gasps exploded from the crowd. A ripple of scandal surged through the ballroom. People whispered excitedly, their eyes wide with shock, like wolves scenting blood.
Sebastian's mask finally cracked. His smile twisted, jagged and dangerous. Slowly, deliberately, he rose to his feet, lifting his champagne glass as though about to make a toast.
"To my wife," he announced loudly, his voice smooth but dripping with venom. His smile stretched wider as he turned toward the guests. "The perfect actress. Convincing, isn't she? Almost makes you believe this is real."
Uneasy laughter rippled through the room. Cameras flashed, capturing every second.
Aria stood too, her chair scraping harshly against the floor. Her voice trembled with fury. "Enough."
But before she could move, Sebastian's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist tightly. He pulled her close, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered. "You want to play with fire, Aria? Then burn."
Her chest heaved. She yanked her wrist free, stumbling back a step, her breath ragged. The mask she had worn for so long had cracked, and the entire room had seen it.
From the bar, Lorenzo placed his glass down with slow deliberation. He started toward them, his steps steady, his gaze locked on Sebastian.
Sebastian's smirk returned as he spotted him. "Here we go," he muttered.
The crowd parted instinctively, giving space as though sensing a fight. The ballroom was no longer a party. It had become an arena.
Lorenzo stopped just inches away from them. His voice was calm, but firm. "Let her go."
Sebastian let out a dark laugh. "And if I don't?"
"Then I will," Lorenzo replied, his eyes steady, his tone unshaken.
The air grew heavy, thick with the promise of violence.
Aria's heart slammed against her ribs. She looked from one man to the other, the husband who caged her, and the stranger who threatened to free her. She realized with a rush of dread and something darker: no matter who won, she would lose something.
The orchestra inside faltered. The silence was unbearable.
Then, Sebastian struck.
The movement was sudden, sharp. A champagne glass flew, crashing against the edge of the table. Wine spilled out like blood, staining the white silk tablecloth, splattering onto Aria's gown.
She gasped, stumbling back. The crowd erupted into shocked whispers, hands flying to mouths. Cameras flashed furiously, eating up the scandal.
Sebastian's mask had finally shattered.
And with it, Aria's cage had caught fire.
She stood frozen for a heartbeat, the red liquid dripping down her dress like an omen. Her heart pounded, her body shook, but something inside her was alive.
The press had their headline.
The crowd had their scandal.
And Aria, Aria had nothing left to lose.